A Muggle Summer
by Zsenya
Summary: Ron gets invited to Hermione's house for the last two weeks of summer before fifth year. He's been working at the Ministry and she thinks it would be educational. R/Hr (the only way to go...)
1. MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTIFACT DEPARTMENT

A/N: JK Rowling is the genius behind the characters. Without the characters, there would be nothing.

PART I: MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTIFACT DEPARTMENT

Ron Weasley was having an interesting summer. He had managed to satisfy both of his parents by working twice a week at the Ministry of Magic with his father and spending the rest of his time at home, doing chores and practicing Quidditch. Ron hoped to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in the fall: Gryffindor did not have a keeper lined up and Ron had his eye on the position. All summer, on the days that he wasn't at the Ministry of Magic learning about Muggle affairs with his father, Ron could usually to be found in the woods behind his house trying to block enchanted balls in the air.

Ron had to admit that he was actually enjoying working at the Ministry with his father. Mostly he performed clerical tasks, but it was interesting to go to the Ministry twice a week and hear all the happenings of the British wizard world. He really felt as though he were in the middle of things. Also, he was allowed to practice magic "as it related to Ministry affairs." Usually Hogwarts students were forbidden to use magic during their holidays. So far he had only used magic to deliver memos and organize files, but still, it was cool that he had permission. Ron also had a new sort of respect for his father. Arthur Weasley was obviously well-respected at the Ministry and he worked hard. Ron felt much more grown-up than he had at the beginning of the summer. He looked more grown-up as well. He had grown several inches and due to the Quidditch practice, in addition to having twice as many freckles as usual, had filled out a bit. He now stood level with his father, and taller than all of his brothers. This was a very monumental event. It meant that he no longer fit into their old clothing and he had acquired some brand new clothes as a result. Everything he chose was blue and he had made a resolution to burn all of the maroon items in his closet as soon as he returned to school. 

One Monday afternoon towards the end of the summer, Ron was at the Ministry, watching the Muggle-monitoring screen for misuse of magic alarms. Whenever an alert was sounded, Arthur Weasley would have to Apparate quickly and investigate. This day had been extremely quiet, when all of a sudden, a picture formed on the wall in front of him. It showed a large, cavernous room with a lot of what looked like tools around the sides. Four boys around Ron's age were standing against the walls looking very shocked. A set of drums was in one corner and some poles with bulbous looking devices were near the front of the room. In the center of the room, a guitar was spinning around and emitting a wonderful noise. Ron had never heard anything like it. It was music, but not music like he heard on the wizard radio. Ron sat mesmerized for a moment, until he remembered that perhaps the stunned look on the faces of the boys in the room was not normal. 

"Dad! Come here and have a look at this!"

Arthur Weasley emerged from his office. His blue robes were worn in places, but he was rather tall and thin and walked with an air of dignity. He peered at the wall and grunted. 

"Well, it looks like another guitar gone crazy. I wish we could find the wizard who keeps doing this. I'm sure that it has to be the same one. This place isn't too far from here – you want to come along and see what can be done? I think we can get there by Muggle-taxi fairly easily."

Ron smiled delightedly. Until now he had not been allowed to accompany his father on any of his forays into Muggle-land. 

Mr. Weasley had been correct about the location. A ten-minute taxi ride deposited them at the house in question. The large room that Ron had observed on the alert screen turned out to be a garage, although a rather shabby looking Fiat was parked in the driveway because the garage was filled with gadgets. Ron thought his father might faint from joy. Arthur Weasley collected, among other things, Muggle plugs and adapters and was fascinated by electricity. The boys that Ron had watched earlier were still staring transfixed at the guitar. He could hear their conversation, although he really didn't understand it. 

"Wow, I mean, like, that is so cool. Where'd you get that guitar?"

"At Nigel Zart's pawn shop. It was dirt cheap. I bet he'd kick himself if he knew what this could do! There must be a battery somewhere, the thing isn't even plugged in.

The guitar was making a noise that sounded like nothing Ron had ever heard before. It made him want to shake his head up and down in time to the music, or jump up and down. For some strange reason, despite the enjoyment he was receiving from the music, he also had an urge to take the guitar and smash it against a wall. Mr. Weasley was busy writing down something in his notebook and muttering "Nigel Zart…Nigel Zart…hmmm… doesn't sound familiar…."

"Play "Stairway to Heaven!" shouted one of the boys. "Bloody 'ell!" and "Awesome!" could be heard coming from the others as the guitar switched gears and began playing a rather delicate sounding melody.

"Come on then, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, taking out his wand, "pay attention. Watch closely." With that, Mr. Weasley pointed his wand at the guitar and uttered a spell _Confuto restituo! _at which point the guitar bounced over to the nearest chair, shuddered, and propped itself against the chair leg. "Right, let's go Ron." said Mr. Weasley briskly, turning to walk away.

"Wha…aren't you going to do a memory charm or anything like that?" asked Ron, confused. 

"No, we generally don't bother with teenage boys. Often they're too embarrassed to tell anyone, or if they do, no one believes them.

For the rest of the day, Ron could think of little else but the boys in the garage and the guitar. It seemed that Muggle teenagers lived a completely different lifestyle than he did. He understood a bit why his father was so fascinated with Muggle objects. And the music! He had never heard music like that before. He wondered if Harry or Hermione knew much about Muggle music and made up his mind to write and ask them about it that evening.

At dinner that evening, Ron told his mother excitedly about their adventure during the day. Mrs. Weasley was surprised and relieved to see Ron take an active interest in something other than chess or Quidditch. When Ron finished his tale, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and said,

"Well, Ron, you are lucky in that you have two good friends from Muggle households. If you're really interested in learning more about Muggle affairs, then why don't you see if you can spend the last two weeks of the holidays with Hermione? It would be educational for you, and I am sure that she would be happy to have you."

"Yes Ron," said Fred in a solumn voice, "and we all know that The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle is your favorite comic book."

Ginny smothered a giggle.

"What about Harry?" asked Ron quickly. "Why can't I stay with him if I am going to stay with a Muggle family? At least Harry will know boy things to do and anyway, he has it much worse than Hermione and could do with some visitors."

Molly and Arthur Weasley exchanged worried glances. They obviously knew of a reason why Ron shouldn't visit Harry, but they weren't going to say it. Mrs. Weasley smiled at Ron and said, "Now, we know Harry is lonely there, but there's not much time left in the holidays. Remember, Harry probably doesn't lead a 'normal' Muggle life during the summer anyway. And you and Hermione are friends. I'm sure she'd love to have you. I'll send an owl to Mrs. Granger tonight."

"She's probably all tired out after her trip to Bulgaria." Muttered Ron crossly, stabbing a potato with his fork and stuffing the whole thing into his mouth.

Ron kept quiet during the rest of the meal, but just as they were clearing the table, a hoot told them that Pigwidgeon had returned from a journey. The tiny owl, a gift to Ron from Sirius Black, landed on Ron's shoulder and rubbed his beak against Ron's cheek. Pigwidgeon's affection for Ron was much more demonstrative than Ron cared for. Still, Ron rubbed Pig's beak and slowly untied the parcel of letters attached to her leg. 

Ginny ran up to Ron, "I wrote to Hermione yesterday, so one of those is probably for me." Ron detached the letters and recognized Hermione's neat penmanship. He handed Ginny her letter. She opened it, scanned it quickly, and erupted into a fit of laughter. 

In addition, Pigwidgeon carried a letter for Mrs. Weasley from Hermione's mother, and one addressed to him from Hermione.

**__**

Dear Ron,

Hello. Thank you for the letter last week. It sounds like your summer has been very interesting. I would love an opportunity to work at the Ministry! I hope that it is an educational experience and that you are learning lots. We just got back from Eastern Europe last week. It was a wonderful trip. Budapest was my favorite, there is a beautiful cathedral there called St. Steven's, and inside is the mummified hand of St. Steven himself! Okay, I wasn't quite excited about that, but I thought that you might find that interesting. We also visited Viktor Krum in Bulgaria. I don't think much of that country. It was a bit run down, but Viktor seems to like it. 

I never thought I would say this, but now that I am back from our holiday, I'm a bit bored! Mum and Dad started working again and I am alone all day. I wish I had five brothers and a sister! I was thinking, do you think that your mum and dad would let you visit me for a week or two before school starts? If you come next week, we can have two full weeks until the start of school. We can meet up with your family and Harry at Diagon Alley a day or two early. Harry wrote me that you wanted to visit him but that the Dursleys weren't letting anyone visit, or letting him go anywhere. I guess you know that he isn't too lonely because Sirius has been to see him three times without his aunt and uncle knowing! It would probably be interesting for you to see how a Muggle family lives, after all of your work this summer.

Let me know if you want to come. I can show you how a telephone, record player and computer work. 

Hermione

"What does your letter say, Ron?" asked Mrs. Weasley with a smile.

"Hermione wants me to come visit for the last two weeks of the holiday. She's asked Harry as well, but he's not allowed. I guess I'll go then." Ron tried to affect an air of indifference.

"Yes, Mrs. Granger also extended an invitation. What an amazing coincidence! Well, great minds _do _think alike. I think it's a wonderful idea. You can go next Sunday, we'll get your father to put the Granger's on the list for Floo Powder for that day."

"Not a problem," added Mr. Weasley cheerfully. "I can take him, Molly. Mr. Granger promised to show me his Muggle dentist office the last time we met. I think I'll take him up on the offer."


	2. FRED AND GEORGE’S FRIENDLY ADVICE

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the genius behind the characters and I am thankful that I am able to borrow them for a little while.

A/N: I am very, very happy for all of the reviews. I hope that this next part does not disappoint. I have written four so far and this is my favorite chapter. Not so much Muggle stuff in this chapter, but Arthur's trip to the dentist is coming up next. Stay tuned!

PART II: FRED AND GEORGE'S FRIENDLY ADVICE

Ron wrote Hermione back and his mother said that she would send a reply with Pigwidgeon to Mrs. Granger the next morning. As Ron stomped upstairs to his bedroom after dinner, his brother Fred accosted him by jumping out of the twin's room and blocking the stairs up to where Ron slept. 

"So, Ickle Ronniekins, going to see your girlfriend?"

"Shut up Fred." Replied Ron, as usual, and tried to push past his brother and continue up the stairs. Unfortunately, at that point, George also popped out of the room to block the way. Although now taller than his brothers, Ron was not as wide as the two of them together, and they managed to bar him from passing.

"Ron, I think you might want to listen to what your very wise older brother has to say. He's unfortunately usually right about these things, and it could turn out to be valuable information."

With that, the twins grabbed Ron, one on each arm, and dragged him into the room. "Wha…gerroff me. Information about what?!" grunted Ron, trying to break free from his brothers' hold.

"Look, Ron, anyone who isn't blind can see that you fancy Hermione." Said Fred, pushing Ron into a chair.

"What!?" exclaimed Ron, his voice unusually high-pitched. "I don't! She's my _friend_. And she's Harry's _friend_, but that doesn't mean that either one of us fancy her, you stupid git."

"Ron, Ron, Ron…" started George, his arms crossed, pacing in front of the chair, "Sure, you don't fancy Hermione, and she doesn't fancy you, that's why she invited you to visit her at her _house_ this summer."

"She invited Harry too! But he can't come! What are you on about?"

Fred assumed an investigative air, "And is not Hermione good friends with our dear sister, Ginny?"

"Yeah, so?"

"And did she invite _Ginny_ to her house this summer?"

"Ginny isn't working at the Ministry. You know Hermione. She doesn't do anything if it isn't educational. She only invited me because she wanted me to learn more about Muggle affairs."

Fred ignored Ron and threw back his head and laughed a silly, loud, mocking laugh, "HaHaHa, and did not Hermione also write a letter to Ginny this evening, which, after reading, caused our sister to stare at you and erupt into a fit of giggles?"

"Stupid girls," muttered Ron, "always finding ways to gang up on me. I'm sure that there's a surprise waiting for me somewhere."

"Look, Ron, okay, say you _don't_ fancy Hermione, which would make you stupid, because she's become quite an attractive young woman…" (at this point George had to duck to avoid Ron's fist in his face) "at some point in your life, most likely in the next year or so, you are probably going to fancy _some _girl and are you going to know what to do?"

Ron stared at George with a look of shock on his face. It was true, he hadn't the foggiest idea what to do with a girl. He certainly knew that his botched attempt to ask Fleur to the Yule Ball last year had not been correct and he knew that Padma Patil most likely considered him the worst date ever. 

"We aren't doing this for _you_ Ron, we are doing it for the Weasley name," began Fred, a solemn note in his voice. "All of the Weasley's have traditionally had quite a lot of success with women. Maybe it's the freckles, maybe it's the firey-red hair, or maybe its, well, we'll tell you more about _that_ later, however, we can't have you going around making a fool out of yourself, can we? I mean, even _Percy_ managed to get himself a girlfriend when he wanted to, and quite a pretty one at that."

"And where did you get all of your wise information then?" asked Ron sarcastically, "what girlfriends do the two of you have hiding?"

"We were instructed by none other than Charles Weasley himself, who, you may have noticed, is quite the girl magnet. He learned all he needed to know from the ultra-cool, wild man Bill Weasley, who heard it all from Dad, we suppose. You can't expect Dad to give the same lecture to all of us – he'd be dead tired after the sixth time. It's obvious, however, that Dad is quite successful with the female species – he's got seven children after all."

Ron made a face and threw a blanket at Fred. Fred and George had accosted him like this two years earlier to explain to him how it was, exactly, that children are created after Ron had professed ignorance as to why a male cat was necessary to produce babies. It was more information than Ron really cared to know about his parents.

"Enough with that," continued Fred, pulling the blanket off of his head, causing his red hair to stick up at all sorts of angles and making him resemble some sort of mad scientist, "I have had some experience with girls, as has George. Nothing serious, mind you, we're not the types to settle down early, but you, Ickle Ronniekins, you may be different, so shuddup and listen."

Ron crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he knew that Fred and George intended to hold him there until he listened to them, so he made a decision to at least listen to them. Ron remembered the way that Fred had asked Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball the year before. He was so cool, so collected. Ron had found the whole experience terrifying. Maybe Fred did have some valuable advice to dole out. And just because he was listening, didn't mean that he was going to try any of their tricks with Hermione. What were they on about, insinuating…it was just ridiculous.

"Listening?" inquired Fred, standing up and pacing around the room, his fingers rubbing his chin in an attempt to look studious. "Right, well, girls, women, especially ones like Hermione, put up an act to try to scare boys away. DON'T LET THAT FOOL YOU!" here, Fred banged his fist down on the desk, causing a pile of books to topple over.

"They don't really want to scare you away, they want you to notice them. At the same time, they want you to feel like whatever you are doing is wrong, because they need to make you feel that they are in control. It's all very confusing." Ron had to admit that Fred was actually making NO sense at this point, but he continued to listen.

"What you need to do is let them feel that way but STAY IN CONTROL. They want to drive you crazy, but you can drive them crazier. How? Here's how. Start with physical contact, but just a little, and you have to be very subtle about it. George! You're the girl. Sit here." Fred motioned to the bed and sat down beside George, who was holding his hands under his chin and giving a weepy smile. "We're at the dinner table. We're eating." George pretended to cut some meat, while Fred did the same. Fred bumped his hand against George's and George quickly drew his hand away and gasped in a silly falsetto, "Oh no! Freddie's hand just touched mine! I will never wash it again!" Fred leaned in to speak to Ron earnestly, "It doesn't seem like much, Ron, but it's a start. Watch the girl's reaction. If she flinches, and moves her hand away quickly, then that's a good sign. It means that she noticed, and it bothered her, but she's not sure why. If she keeps her hand there, then she probably doesn' t care a bit for you."

"This is all so STUPID," grumbled Ron, rolling his eyes. "If you like a girl, why not just tell her? This is all so ridiculous."

"Have you ever tried to just tell a girl that you like her? Not easy is it? This way you can ease into it and give yourself some reassurance, AND CONTROL. Okay, now, you want to continue doing this type of thing a few more times. Reach for the salt when she does, grab the same book she grabs, if it's Hermione, anyway," (Ron looked for something else to throw at Fred, but nothing was within reach) "this will drive the female object nutters and she will be _dying_ for more contact."

Fred motioned for George to stand on the bed, which he did with a leap. "Now, you're out for a walk. There's an obstacle of some kind, a rock, a wall, who knows, whatever, something that the girl can't climb off of" George pretended to be falling off the bed. Fred caught him and grabbed his hand and, George, using a piercing high voice, exclaimed, "Thank you big, strong wizard! Hold my hand so that I won't fall again!" Fred deepened his voice about three octaves and replied "I will gladly hold your hand, Miss. However, I will pretend that nothing is different except that I have forgotten to let go of your hand. That will drive you crazy with wonder." George replied in his girl-voice "Why is he still holding my hand? Does he like me? Or did he just forget? I am so confused, but I think I luuuuurve him."

At this point, Fred and George took a deep, solemn bow. Fred carried on, "Now, once you've held the hand for a length of time longer than five minutes, there is really no going back. You can continue to find ways to hold the hand again, if you are unsure how to proceed. The next logical step, however, is the kiss. It is very important to time this correctly. You must be sure of your emotions, so that you are ALWAYS IN CONTROL!" Fred shouted so loudly that Mrs. Weasley called upstairs, "Boys! Keep your voices down. What _are _ you doing?"

Ron grimaced, "I am not kissing _anybody_."

"Then you, my dear brother, are missing out on one of the greatest experiences in a young man's life. If only I could return to the days before my first kiss, the days of innocence. I didn't know, I didn't suspect, that life could be so wonderful." Fred paused for a moment, looking dreamy, "Angelina, in the bushes, too bad Snape made us leave…" He stopped, blushed, and assumed his normal expression, "you must take the girl by surprise. It's best to administer the kiss when the girl least expects it – a surprise attack. Then you will be able to judge her true feelings. A girl truly in love will be shocked, but will kiss you back if she likes you. Observe."

With that, George walked up to Fred and said, "Freddie, would you like sugar in your tea?" and Fred grabbed George, put his hand over George's mouth, and pretended to give him a big kiss. When he let go, George stammered in a fake voice "Oh! Freddie! That was…wonderful!" and then he grabbed hold of Fred and gave him the same fake kiss. The two let go of each other and took more deep bows. Ron did not applaud.

"After that, Ron, you're on your own. If you're a _true_ Weasley, then nature will pick up after that point." And with that, Fred and George each grabbed Ron by the arm and pushed him out of the room. "Night Ickle Ronniekins! Don't bother to say thank you now, wait until we meet in Diagon Alley!" Fred and George exploded into laughter and Ron walked sulkily upstairs.

"Stupid Fred and George," he muttered crossly, "a fat lot they know."

Still, when he went to sleep that night, he couldn't help wondering how Hermione would react to his attempting to hold her hand. He shuddered at the thought.


	3. MR. WEASLEY GOES TO THE DENTIST

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created the Weasleys and the Grangers. I am just playing with them.

A/N: Thanks once again for all the reviews! I printed them out to keep forever. Is that weird? Special thanks here to my editor, Arabella, for her helpful comments and observations. There is not really a whole lot of romance here, but I really felt that Mr. Weasley needed to go to the dentist.

PART III: MR. WEASLEY GOES TO THE DENTIST

Mr. Weasley and Ron were to travel by Floo Powder to the Grangers at 11:00, Sunday morning. Ron, under the watchful eye of his mother, packed his Hogwarts trunk the night before. After breakfast, he climbed the stairs to retrieve his trunk. To his surprise, something soft and dark blue was lying on top of the trunk. There was a note attached to it.

Dearest Ickle Ronniekins,

We thought that you might appreciate new dress robes. Your others were horrid and no girl would want to kiss you while wearing them. Plus, they probably don't fit anymore, you clumsy giant. Don't tell Mum, she doesn't know we've been selling Weasley Wheezes all summer.

Love,

Your older and wiser brothers, Fred and George

Ron held the dress robes up to get a better look. They were velvet and dark blue and there was no sign of lace on them anywhere. Ignoring the part of the note about the kiss, Ron opened his trunk, reached in the bottom for the old, maroon dress robes, threw them on the ground and stomped on them very hard, and then carefully folded the new ones and placed them at the top of his trunk. Ron was extremely grateful.

Downstairs, Arthur Weasley was standing by the fireplace waiting for Ron, looking very pleased with himself in a pair of plaid trousers and a striped Rugby shirt. Ginny handed a small package and a letter to Ron for Hermione. Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron tightly and told him to behave like a gentleman, at which point Fred and George snickered and gave Ron the thumbs up. Luckily, as he stepped into the fire, no one could see Ron blushing.

Arriving at the Grangers via Floo Powder was much easier than arriving at the Dursleys. The year before, Ron and his father, along with Fred and George had arranged to pick up Harry from Privet Drive. Unfortunately, the Dursleys owned an electric fireplace and the Weasleys had made quite a mess attempting to come down a closed fireplace. The Grangers had started a generous fire, although the day was warm. Ron and his father scrambled out of the fireplace, dragging Ron's trunk behind them. Hermione had obviously warned her parents about Floo Powder, because the floor around the fireplace was covered with a large purple blanket to collect all of the soot.

Ron jumped and blinked when he saw Hermione standing at the border of the purple rug. She smiled at him nervously and waited for him to speak. Although they had just seen each other eight weeks earlier, those two months seem to have had a profound difference on Hermione's appearance. Her bushy hair was pulled into a braid that hung down her back. She was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, something that was quite a sight to a boy who had grown up in a wizarding family. Ron felt his heart beating rapidly and tried to command it to stop, 'stupid Gred and Forge,' he thought, 'trying to get me all worked up over nothing. It's just Hermione after all.' Finally, Ron cleared his throat, pretended to rub soot of his eye, and murmered "'lo Hermione. Thanks loads for the invitation. Er, this is from Ginny" he added, handing her the small package. 

Hermione appeared to have recovered from her initial shyness and greeted him back, reaching forward to take the package from his hands. As she did so, their fingers touched briefly. Quickly she jerked the package towards her and busied herself opening it, while Ron stared at her amazed. What had just happened? He hadn't meant to do that at all. She had jerked her hand away rather quickly, but maybe she was just excited about Ginny's present, which appeared to be a magazine and some sort of girly make-up. He rubbed his hand, which was still tingling slightly.

Mrs. Granger ushered them all into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Ron started glancing around the house, which was very clean, but filled with books on almost every wall. No wonder Hermione was so smart. Ron imagined that having this many books around must make a person intelligent by default.

"Well, Ted," Mr. Weasley was saying in the kitchen, "I don't suppose that you would like to show me your dentist's office? I mean, I think it would be very educational for Ron and I to see how that machinery operates. We haven't had any calls for enchanted dentistry equipment in the department, but I'd like to know what it does in case of an emergency."

"Perhaps you can clean their teeth the Muggle way!" exclaimed Hermione, smiling a bit and glancing at Ron with laughter in her eyes.

"Excellent idea Hermione!" replied Mr. Weasley, "of course, we wouldn't want to _in_con_ven_ience your dear parents."

"Oh its no trouble at all, Arthur," enthused Mrs.Granger, "our office is actually in that small building to the right of the house. It won't take long and I'd love to see what you think of it."

The lot of them trooped out to the Grangers' dental office after they finished their tea. Ron admitted that all of these Muggle gadgets were quite fascinating. The main room contained a large, reclining chair. Above the chair was a rather ugly looking light attached to a strange type of cabinet. Ron observed what appeared to be instruments of torture lying on a table near the chair. He moved closer to Hermione and whispered "No wonder you wanted to shrink your teeth magically, this looks awful." 

"Well, there is actually no way for Muggles to shrink teeth at all." Explained Hermione, obviously happy to play teacher. "They can move teeth around a bit, or add to one that is broken, but it's impossible to shrink them. My parents never seemed to understand that, which is why I suppose I am actually indebted to Malfoy for being so obnoxious." Hermione gave a large smile, which showed her relatively new, straight, perfect teeth. Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, had shrunk them the year before after a misguided curse had caused them to grow down to Hermione's collar. Ron thought she looked rather pretty and had the urge to tell her so, but stopped himself.

"So, _all_ of this runs on eccletricity?" Mr. Weasley was saying knowledgeably to the Grangers. "_Fascinating._ I just sit down in this chair then? All right." Mr. Weasley sat in the chair and opened his eyes widely as Mr. Granger sat next to him and made the chair lie back a little further. "Ohhhh! _Amazing_ what Muggles can do without magic."

"Now, Arthur, we'll just clean your teeth, it's painless and fairly quick." Said Mr.Granger as he snapped on the overhead light. Mr. Weasley blinked in surprise at the intensity of it. "Would you like to watch?" asked Mrs. Granger, handing Mr. Weasley a hand mirror. Ron thought his father looked absolutely ridiculous and made up his mind not to get his own teeth cleaned. 

Mr. Granger flipped another switch and a huge sucking noise came from one of the gadgets on the cabinet. He picked up the tube and said to Mr. Weasley, "Just open up your mouth for us, this will help suck up the extra saliva so that we can clean the teeth more efficiently." Mr. Weasley opened his mouth, allowed Mr. Granger to hook the tube onto his mouth, and gave Ron the thumbs up with his other hand. Ron shook his head and Hermione snorted, trying not to appear rude by laughing outright at Mr. Weasley.

Then Mr. Granger picked up a small metal tool that looked very sharp, and a miniature mirror. Ron watched in horror as Mr. Granger proceeded to scrape at his father's teeth with the metal tool. Mr. Weasley was trying to ask Mr. Granger questions, but he could barely talk with his mouth full like that. Mrs. Granger was offering Mr.Weasley a blow by blow account of what was going on, "Now, Arthur, Ted is scraping plaque off of your teeth. Plaque is very bad and contributes to tooth decay. It's important to get your teeth cleaned like this every six months or so…"

"Or do a plaque-repellant charm once in your life," Ron joked to Hermione, who was now facing the wall in a fit of laughter, unable to watch Mr. Weasley anymore. 

"Wonderful! Your teeth are in very good shape Arthur!" pronounced Mr. Weasley, reaching for another tool, which started to make a loud whizzing noise. "No cavities as far as I can tell. Now, we'll just polish your teeth up and then you'll be all done! This polish is bubble-gum flavored!" Mr. Weasley's eyes widened at the sight of a quickly rotating nub heading towards his mouth. Finally, Mr. Granger finished and turned off the tooth-polishing machine, and removed the tube from Mr. Weasley's mouth. "Rinse!" he announced, handing Mr. Weasley a cup filled with water.

Mr. Weasley stood up unsteadily. "That. Was. Truly. Interesting. _Amazing _what Muggles have to do in order to maintain dental hygiene. Hmmmm. This has been quite informative. Ronald? Would you like a go?" Mr. Weasley looked somewhat green and unsure of himself. Ron just shook his head and backed out of the room, followed by Hermione who could not stop laughing.

Mrs. Granger handed Mr. Weasley a purple toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste as a souvenir and they all headed back to the house.


	4. MUGGLE HOLIDAY PICS

Disclaimer: JK Rowling invented Hermione, Ron and Viktor Krum. I invented the photo album…

A/N: I was working on this today and I think it is going to be longer than I originally planned. It _is _a romance, even if it seems to be moving very slowly. I know that it probably gets a bit wordy, but I keep thinking up new situations for Ron and Hermione and I am really enjoying writing them down. Please keep reading, even if it does stretch out to twenty parts! I apologize if there are any Bulgarians out there. I have never been to Sofia, and only made it sound run-down because I felt like it. I have been to Prague, and have lived in Budapest and those are both wonderful cities. The places I describe are real, although whether or not they are magical I cannot say. Unfortunately, I am a Muggle.

PART IV: MUGGLE HOLIDAY PICS

Arthur Weasley did not stay to supper, and, instead, Apparated home shortly after the dentist demonstration. Hermione helped Ron carry his trunk upstairs and gave him a brief tour of the house.

"That's my parent's bedroom in there and this is mine, right here." She said, pointing to a door that had "Hermione's Room" painted on it in flowery writing. At that moment, the door creaked open and a large, ginger cat came slinking out and rubbed up against Ron's leg. "How's it going Crookshanks, ol' friend?" asked Ron, bending down to rub the cat between the ears. Ron did not always approve of Crookshanks, especially since Crookshanks had been very hostile to Ron's pet rat, Scabbers. However, since Scabbers had turned out to be not a rat at all, but a cowardly, evil murderer named Peter Pettigrew, Ron had made an attempt to be nice to Hermione's cat.

"And this is the guest room here." Hermione opened the next door to reveal a simply decorated room. She walked over to the night table and picked up the lamp, "This is the switch to turn on the light – you see, you just push it here." And as she did so, the light came on. Hermione pointed to a door at the side of the room, "The bathroom and toilet are here. To turn the light on, use this switch." Hermione pointed to a switch in the wall by the door. She added, "This bathroom also joins my room, so if you're in here, you can lock that door, but remember to unlock it before you leave, or else I won't be able to get in!"

They went back downstairs, and Hermione led Ron down a book-lined hallway to a medium-sized room. Inside, the walls were lined with things that didn't look quite like books. There was a strange looking box on a table and another cabinet filled with all sorts of gadgets. "This is my parents' recreation room." Hermione explained. "That's a computer" she said, pointing to the box on the desk, "and those are all of the records and CDs." "Ah, yes," said Ron, hoping he didn't sound too stupid and wishing he'd taken Muggle Studies, "CDs." "They play music," she added, seeing the puzzled expression on his face. "Music?" asked Ron eagerly. "I'd really love to hear some Muggle music. I heard some this summer, although I don't know what it was, and it was really cool. Can we listen now?"

Just then, Mrs. Granger called them to dinner and the music would have to wait.

After dinner, Ron and Hermione sat at the kitchen table while Mr. and Mrs. Granger cleared away the dishes. Ron was not surprised to see that Hermione had planned a schedule for every day of his visit.

"…and then on Tuesday I thought we could cook something in the kitchen so that you could learn about stoves and refrigerators and things like that. On Wednesday, we can work on the computer and maybe play some video games, my father has a ton and they can be really educational if you pick the right ones…" ('trust Hermione to find something educational in a _game'_ thought Ron), "and then on Thursday we could maybe go into town and watch a movie…"

Mr. Granger could obviously see the glazed look in Ron's eyes. "Hermione, why don't you go get the pictures from our holiday? I'm sure Ron's a bit tired and can't concentrate on all of that right now. Just look at some pictures."

The holiday! Ron remembered that he was a bit uncomfortable about the holiday. The Grangers had been to Bulgaria, hadn't they? Hermione had been to visit Viktor Krum. Ron wondered jealously if Krum had attempted to kiss her. He'd certainly had opportunity last year at Hogwarts to carry out a plan of attack as outlined by Fred and George. Ron assumed that Bulgarian wizards would probably act the same as English ones. Ron didn't know why, but the thought of Krum kissing Hermione made him want to throw up. Ugh! Why did that image pop into his head? He resolved to observe Hermione closely as she showed him the pictures.

Hermione returned to the kitchen with two large photo albums, a scrapbook, and a small package in her hands. "I almost forgot," she said, handing him the package, "I got you a souvenir." Hermione set the package down on the table and pushed it towards Ron, obviously trying to avoid contact with his hands like earlier. Ron opened the package, which contained a small replica of St. Steven's mummified hand. "Ta, Hermione." Said Ron, smiling at her.

She opened the first album to a page labeled "Prague" and proceeded to show him lots of buildings and monuments, with running commentary on every picture. Ron found the Muggle pictures a bit boring at times, because they didn't move like magic ones. Even Hermione had to admit that she wished she'd used magic developer. "The clock tower would have looked so much more interesting in a magic photo," she mused sadly, "I wish you could have seen it, Ron, every hour little dancers come out and to most people they just look like stone figures, but they were actually little fairies who live there and they were dancing like crazy. I read about it in our astronomy text book and it was created by a wizard who wanted to have a way to record astronomical movements. He needed something large that wouldn't attract the suspicions of Muggles, so he built the clock to look like a normal European clock tower. He put it right on the town hall in the center of Prague, can you believe it?"

Towards the middle of the book, a new section had started, neatly labeled "Budapest and Hungary." 

"I was a bit scared in Hungary, everywhere except Budapest." Admitted Hermione. "They have the largest vampire population in the world! Luckily they are mostly in the countryside and we spent almost all of our time in Budapest. The Danube is really beautiful and I discovered something wonderful there." Hermione turned the page to view a picture of a ruined building. "There is an island in the middle of the Danube called "Margaret Island" after the daughter of King Bela IV. Bela's wife was a witch, although he didn't know it, and she convinced him to build a convent on the island. In reality it was a meeting place for witches and wizards in the area. When their daughter turned 11, they sent her there to live, supposedly as a nun and she stayed there the rest of her life. Now, this picture is a Muggle picture and it shows ruins, and all my parents could see were ruins, but its not ruins at all! It's a wizarding community! There were hundreds of witches and wizards mulling through it. I found the official entrance and took my parents inside, because they didn't believe me. There were dozens of shops, but Hungarian is a difficult language, so we didn't speak to many people. We found one witch who spoke English and told us the history. Isn't that marvelous?"

Ron had to admit that it was marvelous, and he was quite jealous. The only holiday that his family had taken him on outside of Cornwall was to Egypt two years earlier. Ron had enjoyed every moment and it had made him yearn for more travel.

Hermione finished the first album and reached for the second. She looked at Ron a little shyly and asked "You're not bored, are you? I'm sorry Harry couldn't come, it'd probably be more fun for you to have another boy around. We can call him on the telephone this week – if you call during the day then you can usually catch him alone. If his aunt picks up, then I just pretend that I'm selling something." It seemed out of character for Hermione to worry about him having a good time and she seemed a bit fidgety. Ron smiled at her and answered, "I'm having a wonderful time. These photos are really interesting – I had no idea that so many magical items were sitting out in plain view of Muggles without their noticing." 'There, Mum,' he thought, 'I know how to be a gentleman, and I wasn't lying, this is quite interesting.'

The second album contained a few more pictures of Hungary and then they came to a page entitled "Bulgaria." Ron felt himself blushing and his stomach started doing somersaults. He really wasn't sure if he wanted to see the section about Bulgaria. He barely heard Hermione as she explained, "We spent a week in Bulgaria. It was nice because we stayed with Viktor Krum and his family and Mum and Dad were quite interested to stay in a wizarding household. Sofia was kind of rough though. It has a wonderful history, dating back 2,000 years, and there were lots of archeological sites but there isn't a large wizarding community there anymore. If we hadn't known somebody in the country, I don't think we would have bothered to go there. The weather was really lovely though, and Sofia, like Budapest, has quite a lot of thermal springs. We went with Viktor's family one day to an outdoor one, but it was really just like a large, warm, swimming pool. My dad's got some back problems and he said that the water seemed to help him."

Ron gazed angrily at the photo in front of him. Hermione was standing in between her parents, wearing what appeared to Ron to be an extremely skimpy bathing suit (although in reality it was quite modest). She looked like one of the girls in the pile of Muggle magazines that Fred and George kept hidden under their beds (they magicked them to look like comic books when viewed by female eyes, to avoid the wrath of Mrs. Weasley). Had Krum seen her in that getup? Maybe it was okay for Muggles, but it certainly was not all right for witches and wizards. Ron opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it. After all, it wouldn't do to get into an argument with Hermione in her own house. Instead, Ron stood up so quickly that the chair he was sitting in fell backwards. He picked it up hastily and said, "They're really great pictures, Hermione, but I'm a bit tired after all of the stuff that's been going on today. I think I'll go to bed if you don't mind." The clock on the wall read 8 o'clock. Ron walked upstairs very quickly, slammed the door to the guest room and flopped down on the guest bed.

A few moments later, he heard Hermione come into the bathroom from the other side and knock on his door. "Ron?" she asked tentatively. "Ron? Well, I've just laid out some blue towels for you to use. If you need anything, let me know. Goodnight." Ron didn't answer. What was wrong with him? He certainly felt like he was going crazy. As he fell asleep, he heard Fred's voice echoing in his ear "Stay in CONTROL…"


	5. MUGGLE MUSIC

Disclaimer: Thank you JK! Thank you JK! You created these characters, and I love them!  


A/N Sorry there's not much romance in this part either (at least not OBVIOUS romance). But its subtle and gradual, so I hope you'll be patient and keep reading. I noticed tons of errors in my first four chapters, but I think I will wait and repost the whole thing at the end, whenever that will be). As always, much thanks to Arabella for content commentary and grammatical tutorial.

PART V: MUGGLE MUSIC

The next morning, Ron slept quite late. When he awoke, he washed up, dressed quickly and headed down the stairs, finding Hermione at the kitchen table reading the Daily Prophet. "Morning!" She said a bit too brightly. "I figured you should be able to sleep as late as you want – we've got a lot to get in today and you need your energy. Do you want breakfast? Mum and Dad are working until about six."

Ron nodded and accepted the toast that was pushed towards him. "What's this?" he asked, looking into his glass at a bright orange drink. "Orange juice" replied Hermione. "Muggles drink it instead of pumpkin. Try it!" Ron took a baby sip and found it to taste halfway decent.

"Do you think we could listen to some music this morning?" asked Ron, remembering back to the sounds he had heard on the guitar the week earlier. He was relieved to see that the photo albums were nowhere in sight, although the mummified hand was still in its box on the table. Ron picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket. He felt like he didn't really want any trace of the night before visible on the table. He'd rather not see anything that reminded him of Viktor Krum or Bulgarian swimming pools.

"Well," began Hermione, studying her list, "I was going to give you an introduction to electricity this morning, but I suppose that I can explain that this afternoon, although you may not fully understand the record player without the introduction."

"Great." Ron's eyes wandered towards Hermione's fingers, which were scanning the long list she had created. The nails were covered in a sparkly purple-colored polish. Hermione looked up, saw where Ron was looking, and blushed. "Ginny's present," she murmured and looked back down at her list.

They entered the recreation room and Hermione took one of the slender records from the rack on the wall. "I'm afraid I'm not very up on current Muggle music," she admitted apologetically, "I spend most of my time now at Hogwarts! And unfortunately, my parents don't listen to anything that was created after about 1980. If you want to, on Fridays there's a teen dance club in town that we can go to and listen to more modern music. Now, this," she said, holding up the object in her hand, "is a record album, or, well, actually, it's the cover. A record contains pre-recorded performances of music. This one, like it says here, is the Beatles. They were the most popular Muggle band thirty years ago." Hermione reached into the dust jacket and pulled out a flat, round disk. "_This _is the record itself. It's made out of vinyl. You can see the grooves in it? It's like a code. The musical information is recorded in these grooves, but you can only here it if you place a special needle in the grooves and rotate the record at a certain speed. So, you need a special machine to play it. Muggles can make millions of these and they are exactly the same, so that someone in America can listen to this the same time that I do if they want."

Hermione walked over to one of the machines in the room. "This is a record player. It runs on electricity, of course. You place the record on this table, and then you turn it on. This arm has a small needle on the end, which reads the information in the grooves. The sound then comes out of the speakers in the corners." Ron nodded. He really didn't understand exactly how this all worked, but knew better than to ask Hermione about it at the moment. He wanted to hear the music and didn't really want an in-depth explanation of the principles of electricity.

Hermione placed the record on the spindle and lowered the needle onto the record surface. There was a scratching noise, and then, a sound came through the speakers on either side of the room. It was loud, and fun. Ron smiled happily.

__

Oh yeah I'll, tell you something, I think you'll understand

When I, feel that something, I wanna hold your hand!

I wanna hold your hand…

When Ron heard the lyrics, he turned red, remembering his talk with Fred and George. Hermione seemed a bit embarrassed as well, but for a different reason. "I know it's a little old-fashioned, but I've always quite liked the Beatles," she admitted to him. 

"What?" Ron looked up from the record sleeve, which he was studying intently, "Oh, well, I don't know any better and I think it's cool. How are they making those noises? Are those guitars?" 

"Yes, they're electric guitars." Suddenly, a light appeared in Hermione's eyes, "my father's got an electric guitar in the closet! He used to play in a band before he and my mum were married. I can play it a bit, but I'm not very musical. If I can get it working, do you want a try?"

Ron couldn't believe his luck. Trying to sound calm, he answered, "Yeah, all right, whatever." Hermione was already digging around in a large closet and was pulling out a small box and a guitar and muttering to herself "I think this is the amplifier, but where's the cable – oh, yes, here it is." She fiddled around with some plugs and things and then, turning down the record player, she hung the guitar strap around her neck and played a chord. It sounded terrible.

"Oh!" she said, frowning, "It must need to be tuned. Here – you can play with it, I think that there's a book on guitars somewhere around here." With that, Hermione handed the guitar to Ron and ran down the hall to look on the shelves. Gingerly, he plucked one of the strings. A high-pitched noise came out of the box on the floor. It didn't sound quite right. He followed the string up to the knob at the top of the neck and turned it slowly. He played the string again and it sounded better. He repeated the process with the other five strings and sat down on a chair. Slowly he picked out a tune that he knew, messing up now and then. By the time Hermione returned with the book, Ron was already plucking out a recognizable melody on the strings.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, "I never knew you were musical, Ron!"

"Well, there're _lots_ of things you don't know about me," he answered, surprised at his boldness. He winked at her, and continued to try to work out the tune to the Beatles song they had just heard. 

Hermione had the book open in front of her. "If you want to make a bigger noise, you need to play chords, you know, three or so notes together at once, like this picture." She held the book up in front of Ron for him to see. Slowly, he placed his fingers in the formation shown in the book and strummed at the strings. An amazingly powerful noise came out of the guitar. Hermione looked impressed. Ron grinned. "See, I'm naturally talented," he joked. "One up for the Muggle world, wizards don't bother creating stuff like this."

They sat practicing chords for another hour or so, until Hermione became bored with holding up the book for Ron to see. She promised to let him come back and practice later in the day.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger left their offices for lunch and joined Hermione and Ron in the kitchen. Mr. Granger was especially pleased about Ron's interest in the guitar, and answered all of Ron's eager questions. 

"Do you have any records with really, you know, LOUD music?"

"Well, you might like to try some T. Rex, or some Rolling Stones."

"Is it LOUD?"

"Yes, most of the time."

"Can you play the guitar, like, really well? Can you teach me?"

"Well, from what Hermione says, you may play better than I do already. Just listen to those records and try to play along. I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's been years since I tried to play anything new."

At this point, Hermione interrupted, "Don't you want to play anything _pretty_ Ron? Why does it have to be loud?"

"Loud is cooler," answered Ron, giving Hermione a cheeky look. He turned to Mr. Granger and asked smartly, "Is there anything that is pretty _and _loud?"

Mr. Granger smiled, "You might try some David Bowie. Or some Fleetwood Mac." Hermione was right, her parents' musical knowledge did end around 1980, but Ron didn't know any better and the names sounded wonderful to him. "I'll tell you what, Ron, you can borrow that guitar for as long as you'd like. I really don't play much anymore, and, besides," here, Mr. Granger avoided looking at his wife, "I've been thinking about getting a newer one."

Both Hermione and Mrs. Granger knew that Mr. Granger actually played with the guitar once a week, at least and had probably been looking for an excuse to buy a newer one. 

"Well," said Hermione, "It won't work at Hogwarts, so you'll have to wait until the holidays to play it, or else find a way to enchant it while at school. If you'd just read _Hogwarts: A History_ then you would know that electricity doesn't work at Hogwarts."

"Fine, whatever. Are you done eating, because I'd really like to go and listen to some of those records. May we be excused? Thanks very much for the information Mr. Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her mother, but followed Ron out of the room. Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged laughing glances and headed back to the office.


	6. MUGGLE CHESS

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created the characters and wizard chess. I'm not sure who invented Muggle chess.

A/N: This chapter is really short, so I am posting Chapter VII now as well. Please review both though! I _know_ this is moving slowly. I thank everyone for their patience. I will tell you that so far I have ten chapters written and there is not a single kiss yet – but there will be. I mean, its been a while since I was fifteen, but not that long ago, and I seem to remember that things like first kisses take a long time to accomplish. Also, I'm glad people liked the Beatles references. The first real music I was into was the Beatles (I'm not as old as Hermione's parents by any stretch, but _my_ parents had some Beatles records). I still think they are the greatest band ever. Also, my boyfriend is a musician (guitar mainly) so I figured I would write something I know a little bit. Okay, enough chatter, its time to play some…

PART VI: MUGGLE CHESS

By Monday evening, Ron had mastered "Bang a Gong" on the guitar, as well as "Ziggy Stardust," although he disliked the bit about "spiders from Mars."

Hermione had sat in the recreation room with him, helping with the chords for a good portion of the afternoon. After a while, though, it was apparent that Ron didn't really need her help. He appeared to have some sort of natural gift.

Towards the end of the afternoon, Hermione had retrieved a book and was sitting in a beanbag in the corner of the room, pretending to read. Quite often, she would look up from the book and stare at Ron. Ron caught her staring once as he looked up, but merely smiled at her and went back to his practicing. He was lost in his own world, strumming the chords and humming the melodies to himself.

After dinner, Hermione flatly refused to spend anymore time in the recreation room with the records, insisting that Ron take a break.

"Why don't we play some Muggle chess?" she asked slyly. She looked as though she had been dying to see how Ron would fare at this sport. She had never managed to beat him at wizarding chess, but everyone knew that Ron's pawns were ruthless in their attack. Muggle chess was more boring, but in a way, involved more strategy, since you had to depend solely on the pieces' position on the board and not on the strength and cunning of the pieces themselves.

Ron grinned confidently as Hermione spread out the chessboard and set up the pieces on the kitchen table. Hermione outlined for Ron the basic differences between the Muggle and magic versions of the game. It turned out that Ron was just as talented at Muggle chess as he was with the magic version. It was a long game but in the end he managed to pull a victory. Although obviously disappointed that she lost, Hermione actually seemed quite pleased with Ron for winning. "Well done!" she exclaimed and started picking up the pieces. She dropped one on the floor and she and Ron both lunged for it at the same time. She reached it first, but only seconds before Ron, whose hand ended up covering hers. Without realizing what he was doing, he squeezed her hand briefly. Quickly she snatched her hand away and Ron looked in surprise at his own hand, as if he weren't sure what had just happened. Blushing, Hermione muttered, "It's a bit late - I think I'll go to bed. Are you going to stay up? I can show you how to work the television if you'd like." 

"No," said Ron, who wasn't feeling the slightest bit tired, "I think I'll go and practice the guitar a bit more."

"Well, goodnight then," and clutching the chess set in her arms, Hermione turned quickly and ran up the stairs.

Ron wandered to the recreation room and picked up the guitar, strumming softly, without using the amplifier. What had just happened back there? Was Hermione blushing? Why was his hand still warm? Ron went back to the record player and picked up the Beatles album that they had been playing earlier and placed it on the record player, turning the "volume" knob down quite low.

As "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" came floating down through the speakers, Ron realized that perhaps Fred and George had been right. Perhaps he _did_ fancy Hermione. He hated thinking of her with Viktor Krum and he wanted to hold her hand - no - he wanted to _kiss_ her. How would he ever manage that? She had looked quite embarrassed when she drew her hand away, but she had done so quickly and hadn't Fred and George said that was a good sign? When the song finished, Ron turned off the record player and headed upstairs, vowing to find a way to accidentally touch Hermione's hand again. 


	7. FOOD FIGHT

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters, but if Hermione and Ron don't declare their love for each other in Book 5, 6, or 7, then I may steal them for myself.

A/N: A Ron and Hermione story wouldn't be complete without a good fight, don't you think? Oh! Someone mentioned in a review that they should write to Harry. Well, they will talk to him on the telephone, but not until later. Remember, Ron's only been at the Grangers for two days now.

PART VII: FOOD FIGHT

Tuesday morning, Hermione was in the kitchen banging around some pots and pans when Ron came stumbling down the stairs. Groggily, he remembered that according to her schedule, Tuesday was "cooking day." He wasn't sure why he needed to learn this, but figured it might be useful to learn how the kitchen machines worked, and maybe they might make some edible food, which was always fine with Ron.

The blushing, shy Hermione of the night before had been replaced by Sergeant Granger, who greeted him with, "Right, this morning you are going to make your own breakfast, Muggle-style. What do you feel like eating?"

"Toast" replied Ron, who was thinking that must be the easiest thing to come up with.

"Okay, well, first you need bread, which is kept here in this bread box. Nothing special there. Next, you need a toaster. In the past, Muggles would toast their bread on the fire, as wizards do today. However, since most Muggle kitchens don't have fires anymore, they devised an electronic device called a toaster to do it for them. It's quite quick and easy. You can make two pieces at a time with ours. You simply put the bread in the slots and set the toaster for 'light', 'medium', or 'dark.' Then you push down this lever. You try. Good, now, the coils inside, which run on electricity, get hot very quickly and toast the bread. There's a sensor inside to time it so that the toast isn't burned. Now, do you want anything on the toast?"

"Butter," replied Ron, whose head was already slightly dizzy from this 9 am lecture.

"Right, the butter is kept in the refrigerator." Hermione pointed to the large white cabinet across the room. "Muggles can't perform spells to keep their food from spoiling, so they had to invent a refrigerator to keep food for longer periods of time. A refrigerator also runs on electricity and it's set to always be cold inside, so that things like butter and milk won't spoil. Go on, open the door and see if you can't find the butter."

Ron reached for the closest handle, "No! That's the freezer! The top part is kept colder for meat and things like that. The butter's down below."

Ron found the butter and plopped it down on the table. Then he sat down and waited. "The toast isn't going to come to you, Ron," said Hermione irritably. "You have to put the butter on yourself." She handed him a butter knife, showed him where the plates were located and watched as he attempted to spread the butter on the toast. 

"I know how to butter toast thank you very much," responded Ron, waving the knife at her.

"Thank _you_ very much," said Hermione, taking the plate out of his hands when he finished. "Now you can practice by making your own." Giggling, she sat down at the table and began to eat. Ron made a face at her and threw two more pieces of toast into the toaster.

By the time he finished buttering his own slices, Hermione had finished hers and was watching him humorously. He sat down at the table, poured himself a glass of the orange juice and tried to think of something interesting to say. Soon, however, his mind wandered towards the guitar and he thought about which songs he might try to practice.

Just then, a dark gray owl appeared at the window and pecked on the glass. Hermione got up, saying "I already got the Daily Prophetthis morning, I wonder who this is from." She opened the window and let the owl inside. There was a letter attached to its ankle. She untied it carefully and gave the owl a bit of feed from a bowl on the counter. The owl seemed to be waiting for a reply. Hermione opened the letter and smiled slightly.

"Who's it from then?" asked Ron, his mouth full of toast.

"Viktor Krum," said Hermione very softly. 

"Oh," said Ron, feeling his face grow hot and anger well up inside of him. 'I will not get angry, I will _not_ get angry,' he repeated to himself. Unfortunately, the next moment he said aloud, "So, what's your boyfriend got to say?"

Hermione's brows crossed in anger and she stammered to Ron, "He's _not _my boyfriend."

Before he could stop himself, Ron heard his voice say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I just assume that when a girl goes to visit a boy in Bulgaria and prances around in front of him in nothing but her knickers, and then gets a letter from him that makes her smile and blush, then it _must _be her boyfriend, but maybe I just don't know anything."

"No, you don't know anything, do you Ron?" retorted Hermione, throwing the letter down on the table. "If you knew _anything _then you would know that, oh! Never mind!" Hermione covered her mouth, as if to stop herself from saying something truly horrid, and then, picked up the letter and stormed upstairs. Ron heard a door slam a moment later. The gray owl cooed softly behind him. "Shut up you stupid Bulgarian owl," muttered Ron. 

He sat slouched in a chair in the kitchen for a good ten minutes, arms crossed, lips pursed, fuming, and thinking of nothing in particular. Eventually, one thought did pop into his head. Viktor Krum was in _Bulgaria_. And he, Ron Weasley, was in _England_ at the Granger's _house_. All was fair in love and war. 'Wait a second,' he thought, confused, 'what do I mean by that?" His heart gave a lurch and suddenly he saw Hermione, looking as she had at the Yule Ball in her shimmery dress robes, and then, again he saw her, smiling at him across a pile of library books, and then, as she had been a few minutes earlier, instructing him how to open a refrigerator.

"Damn!" he said, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up from the chair. Slowly, he headed up the stairs towards the door that said "Hermione's Room" in flowery letters.

Ron could hear crying coming from the room and he felt nauseous. Was Hermione crying over Krum, or over what he had said? Ron reflected that he had not STAYED IN CONTROL, nor had he been a gentleman. Tentatively he knocked on the door.

"What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"Why, so you can accuse me of being a scarlet woman again?"

"No, I … Look, I'm sorry, can I just come in?"

There was a moment of silence and then Hermione opened the door, her face wet with tears. "Fine, come in. I don't care."

Ron had not seen the inside of Hermione's room. Two of the walls were overflowing with bookshelves and books. There was a wardrobe and small dress table against the third wall and the bed was lined up against the fourth next to the window. Ron noticed a wizard picture of himself, Hermione, and Harry, smiling and waving in their third year, propped up against the mirror. Hermione sat down on the corner of the bed, looking down at her hands. Ron took the chair from the dressing table and gingerly sat down, facing Hermione. "Er, I think that owl is waiting around for a reply."

Hermione didn't look up, but continued staring at her hands, which were now clenched very tightly in her lap. 

Ron didn't know what to say. He really did not want to fight with Hermione, and he certainly didn't want to make her cry any more than he already had in the four years that they had known each other. The silence was very uncomfortable. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry for what I said. It wasn't very nice."

Hermione's head jerked up and she looked at Ron. Her face was very red and her cheeks were very wet. She looked absolutely astonished that he had apologized to her so quickly. Slowly she said, "Viktor Krum is not my boyfriend. He is my friend. Just like Harry is my friend," she paused for a very brief moment, Ron thought he might have imagined it, "or you." The last word was said in barely a whisper.

"I just thought you must fancy him," said Ron quietly. "You went to the Yule Ball with him _and_ you went to visit him." There was nothing accusatory in his voice any more. 

"Viktor is _very _nice," admitted Hermione, "and quite the gentleman. It's interesting to talk with him and he knows loads of things. But I never liked him like _that._ I mean, he's ages older than I am, _and_ he lives all the way in Bulgaria. I went to the Yule Ball with him because he _asked_ me. First."

Hermione looked up at Ron and he looked up at her and for a moment her brown eyes and his blue ones were locked in a gaze. After a moment, Hermione looked down again quickly and said, "Well, should we head downstairs? I was going to show you how to make a pie, and I should write a reply so that the owl can get on its way." 

Briskly, she grabbed a sheet of parchment, a quill and ink bottle and led the way downstairs back into the kitchen.

Ron went to go practice the guitar while Hermione wrote her reply. He turned up the volume so loudly that he didn't hear Hermione call him, or enter the room. Finally, she had to stride over to the amplifier and turn down the volume. Ron jumped and faced her with a smile, "Ready to make pies then?"


	8. GUITAR LESSONS

Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Granger. But I turned Ron into a Rock Star. Haha!

A/N: Thank you to everyone for understanding my need to take this story very slowly. If you read LightningDancer's review to Part VII – you will see that she is an expert at Divination (except there is no real food fight). That is all I will say on that subject. And Hildagard – Hermione is _not_ a slut. That will come out in the story as well. She is just very confused by all this attention she is suddenly getting! And B – you picked up on _my _favorite line as well. Every time I read it I just giggle. This chapter is short (although the A/N is long) and I will probably post the next one tomorrow.

PART VIII: GUITAR LESSONS

The pies (cherry) turned out quite well, although most of the kitchen ended up covered in flour by the time the two of them were finished. Much to Ron's displeasure, they then had to clean up the Muggle way, which Ron considered to be quite the punishment. Muggles may have invented electric guitars, but Muggle housekeeping tactics left much to be desired.

That evening, Mr. Granger offered to take Ron with him to the music shop. Ron's eyes nearly flew out of his head at the sight of dozens of guitars lining the walls. Mr. Granger picked one from the wall and plugged it into a nearby amplifier. A terrible sound burst forth as Mr. Granger attempted to strum a chord. "I'm a bit out of practice," he laughed and handed the guitar to Ron, "here, you have a go."

Ron surprised Mr. Granger by placing the guitar strap around his neck and playing a coherent melody. Another shopper in the store sat down at one of the drum sets and began to bang out a beat. Ron had never had so much fun in his life. Mr. Granger finally had to drag him away, after purchasing the guitar that Ron had been playing.

When they arrived home, Hermione and her mother were reading. Ron wasn't surprised to see that Hermione was reading Advanced Arithmancy. Hermione handed Ron a note, "Errol's here," she said, motioning to a very large, very tired looking owl in the corner of the room. Ron picked up the note and recognized Fred's handwriting.

Dear Ron,

How's the Muggle world treating you? Are you living up to the Weasley name? Remember, STAY IN CONTROL!

Don't disappoint us.

Fred and George

Ron blushed, crumpled up the piece of paper, and retired to the recreation room to practice. After a while Hermione came in to listen to him play. 

Ron was playing Mr. Granger's new guitar (Mr. Granger had asked Ron to "break it in" for him). Hermione picked up the old one, which was propped against the wall and sat down in a chair, trying to mimic Ron's finger movements. The guitar wasn't plugged in, but after a while, Hermione stopped, "I'm hopeless at music," she said, frustrated.

"No! You were doing it right!" said Ron, putting down the new guitar and switching the cables so that Hermione's guitar was now plugged in. He came and kneeled in front of her. "I think your hand is positioned wrong. Here, curve your fingers up more, like this." Ron reached out for one of Hermione's fingers and gently curved it a bit more so that only the tip of her finger was touching the string. Ron _thought_ he heard Hermione gasp slightly, but he decided not to look up. Instead, he murmured, "That's right, now, put this finger here, and strum these four strings with your other hand." Hermione smiled delightedly as a decent sounding noise burst forth from the amplifier.

"See! You've got it! Do you want to try another?" Ron reached forward to try to move Hermione's fingers to the next chord.

Hermione jumped up. "I think I've got it as long as you're here to help me! But I… I'm a bit tired, and I want to go to bed. Goodnight!" And she turned quickly, put down the guitar, and raced out of the room.

'Yes!' thought Ron, 'I am IN CONTROL.'


	9. THE CINEMA

Disclaimer: JK Rowling, JK Rowling, JK Rowling, JK Rowling, JK Rowling! 

A/N: Okay, this chapter is a little longer. Sorry about the Roman Numerals. I just like them better (this is part 9). I am finding less and less time to work on this – I now have 14 chapters sketched out – maybe New Years is a realistic goal? I would like to send a thank you this time to the scarce, but valuable male reviewers out there – Keith – and… is Penguin Bob an actual boy? What do you guys think – realistic?

I am assuming that Hermione and Ron are living in 1995 right now. So, I chose movies from IMDB that were released in 1995. That's why I picked those three – no other special reason, except one, which Arabella knows about.

PART IX: THE CINEMA

The next day, Ron felt an urge to get out of the house. His foray to the music store with Mr. Granger the night before had reminded him that there was much more to the Muggle world than the Granger household.

At breakfast, he broached the subject, "So, Hermione, is there something that we can do away from the house today?" Hermione looked up blankly from her eggs, and Ron continued, "I mean, I know that computers or something is on the _schedule_ today, but can't we change it and do something different for a change?"

Hermione threw a piece of her toast at him. Luckily, it landed on the floor and not in his lap. "I'm not _that_ boring," she answered. "Maybe we can go into town and go to the cinema. How does that sound?" 

"Lovely" answered Ron, not quite sure what a _cimena_ was, but hoping that it was something cool.

They could walk into town from the Granger's house in about twenty-five minutes. Cinema turned out to be the moving pictures. Ron didn't see how this would be too exciting. After all, he had spent most of the summer staring at live pictures on the Ministry alert screen. There were three choices at the theatre. _First Knight_ about King Arthur, _French Kiss _(Ron didn't want to ask what that was about), and _Casper_ about some ghost. Ron suggested the one about the knight, but Hermione seemed unsettled by that one. Before she could suggest the one about kissing, he suggested _Casper_ as he figured anything about ghosts could be pretty interesting. He hadn't known that Muggles knew of ways to communicate with ghosts. Maybe there would be some blood or battles.

Inside the theatre lobby, Hermione purchased a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas for them. "If you want the true movie experience," she explained, "then you have to eat enough to make you sick." Then she admitted guiltily, "this is new for me as well. Whenever I come here, my parents won't let me have any of this, because of my teeth. Try the soda – it's really good, not as good as butterbeer, but still, it has an interesting flavor." Ron slurped some of the soda through a straw and had to admit that it was tasty.

They entered the movie theatre. It was quite dark, "Why are all the lights off?" asked Ron. "How're we supposed to see?" As they sat down, Hermione began to explain to him the principles of film. "You see, they take a moving picture through a camera, but in order to view it, it has to be projected onto a screen. The room needs to be dark in order to see the picture clearly…"

Ron nearly jumped and spilled all of the popcorn as a loud noise came out of the screen. "WELCOME TO OUR THEATRE! PLEASE LOOK FOR THE NEAREST EXIT. IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY, WALK, DO NOT RUN, TO THE NEAREST EXIT."

"Who's saying that?" whispered Ron, turning his head. Luckily, the theatre was not very crowded. Hermione giggled, "there's a speaker, sort of like in our recreation room, up there. They record the message and play it to match up with the pictures."

Ron balanced the large bucket of popcorn on his lap and stared straight ahead. Huge letters came out of the screen, spelling out people's names. "How'd they do that?" asked Ron, unable to comprehend anything like that happening without magic. "With computers and drawings," whispered Hermione back to him. There are lots of what are called 'special effects' in this film. Obviously most Muggles don't believe in ghosts, and certainly can't film them, so I think that all the ghosts are just drawings placed on top of the film. I'm not really sure how it all works _exactly_, but it certainly isn't magic like we know it."

Soon, a plump, bald-headed white creature floated across the screen. Ron nearly choked on his soda. "That's what they think a ghost looks like?" asked Ron incredulously, breaking into laughter. "Bloody hell that's hilarious. I'd love to show _this_ to Nearly Headless Nick."

Hermione nudged him in the ribs, "Ron! It's not nice to swear. Besides, Muggles don't know about ghosts and nobody thinks this movie is real anyway, it's meant to be a _story_." But she also giggled as she thought of some of the ghosts that they knew at Hogwarts.

Ron tried to behave as the film began in earnest. It was the story of a young girl who came to live with her father in a house haunted by four ghosts. The youngest ghost was named Casper, and had a bit of a crush on the teenage girl. The story was okay, but Ron found his mind wandering. He was in a dark room with Hermione. They were sitting quite close. Grinning, he waited for her to reach for a handful of popcorn, then simultaneously sent his hand in the bucket at the same time. Their fingers touched and Hermione jerked her hand out so quickly that the popcorn she was holding fell to the floor. "Sorry" she muttered, putting her hands demurely together in her lap. "'s okay" said Ron with a mouthful of popcorn. That had been quite fun. He couldn't wait to try it again, but Hermione, apparently, had eaten her fill of popcorn. 

Ron offered the bucket to Hermione but she just shook her head so he placed it on the floor. Then, slyly, he crossed his legs so that his left ankle rested on his right knee. Hermione was sitting to his left and his left knee was just barely grazing her right one. He waited for her to jerk her leg away, but she didn't move, and Ron stared straight ahead, pretending to be very interested in the fact that Casper's brothers had just killed the girl's father.

Ron wondered what else he could get away with in the theatre, but decided that he'd gone far enough. He made a resolution to attempt hand-holding that afternoon. He felt he was ready. He was a bit surprised that so far, Fred and George appeared to have been right about almost everything. Ron felt very proud to be a Weasley. 

Towards the end of the movie, Casper the ghost was turned into a real boy so that he could dance with the teenage girl. Ron leaned over to Hermione and whispered, "Can you imagine if Myrtle got that chance? I bet she'd choose to remain in her bathroom and be miserable." Moaning Myrtle was a ghost who haunted one of the bathrooms at Hogwarts. She routinely flooded the bathroom because she was unhappy and liked to cry. Just as he finished making his comment, Casper kissed the girl, before transforming back into his bubbly-ghost shape. Ron had an irresistable urge to do the same to Hermione, her ear was inches away from his lips, but held himself back, thinking 'Control, CONTROL, must do this right, can't disgrace Weasley name' over and over to himself.

They exited the dark theatre onto a bright, sunshiny street. 

"Do you want to explore the town a bit?" asked Hermione. "There's not much to see, but I guess to you it might be interesting. I can call home and let Mum know that we'll eat dinner here. We can get some fish and chips if you'd like."

Ron agreed and they started walking down the street, looking in all the shop windows.


	10. RON IN SHINING ARMOR

Disclaimer: What would I be doing now without JK Rowling? The character of Susie used courtesy of Arabella.

A/N: Thank you soooo much to everyone for your reviews. This next part is now approximately halfway through the story (I've been writing like a madwoman all weekend) and I hope that it will make people happy. I'm not going to let Ron and Hermione off that easily though, they still have to have a few misunderstandings in order to make things right. I think this part is actually a bit unrealistic, but you guys out there - take note, this is how we _wish_ you would act…

PART X: RON IN SHINING ARMOR

The town where Hermione lived was not very large, but there were a few interesting shops. Ron dragged Hermione into a store that sold records and CDs. The shop was filled wall to wall with music and at the end of the room was a block of listening stations.

Ron walked up to the clerk, who was a bit frightening looking with spiky, scarlet hair and several earrings and said, "I'm looking for something LOUD." Hermione rolled her eyes and strode off to read the magazines, while the smiling clerk led Ron to a section near the back and showed him how to use the CD Players. 

The CD that the clerk had given to him was by a band called "Nirvana." The music was loud enough for Ron, and he was quite enjoying the sound as it came through the headphones. He wondered if Hermione might like to have a listen. He looked across the room and saw her engrossed in an issue of Rolling Stone, featuring an article about "Women in Music". She was standing on one side of a magazine rack. About a yard away from Ron were three girls who appeared to be laughing very hard over something. In the pause between songs, he heard one of them say "Hermione," and he turned down the music so that he could hear what else they were saying.

"I think you're right Andrea, that _is_ Hermione Granger."

"I wonder if she still goes to that strange boarding school. Remember when she tried to scare us with a magic wand a few years ago? What a freak!"

At this point they all squealed with laughter. 

"Well, I don't know that magic has improved her looks much," said the first girl, who was short, sandy-haired, and had teeth much worse than Hermione's had ever been.

The third girl nudged the first one and nodded towards Ron, who hadn't realized that he was staring. Quickly, he picked up the CD cover and pretended to study it intensely. He still had the volume turned down, but started nodding his head up and down as if he were listening to the music.

"Ooooh, he's cute, isn't he?" said one of them.

"Where'd he come from? Look how tall he is! He's _gorgeous_! Do you think he's visiting or has he moved here?" asked another.

"I just love ginger hair!" giggled the third.

"Susie, go ask him. I dare you to ask him where he's from."

"No! I can't! You ask him!"

"No! You!"

"Chicken!"

"Fine, I'll do it then."

Ron saw Hermione watching him from the magazine rack. He wondered if she could hear what the girls were saying. She was wearing the expression that she usually wore right before she would burst into tears. Susie was now standing behind Ron and a moment later he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Ron jerked round, the girls giggled.

"Hello there," said the girl Susie to Ron.

"Er, hello," he answered

"What's your name, then?"

"Ron"

"I'm Susie. Do you live here, Ron?"

"No, I'm from the south of England."

"What are you doing here then?"

"I'm, er, visiting my _girlfriend_."

He figured that would shut them up. He removed his earphones and glanced towards Hermione, whose eyes were now flashing angrily at Susie and her friends. Grinning, he said politely to Susie, "Well, nice to meet you," and he turned back towards the CD player. As he turned, he glanced towards Hermione and winked.

Susie went running back to her friends, giggling uncontrollably. "His name's Ron. He's from the south of England. He said he's here visiting his girlfriend. I wonder who it is…" Susie stopped as she noticed Hermione on the other side of the magazine stand looking at them. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Hermione Granger. Going to cast a spell on us?"

Hermione didn't say a word.

"What's the matter? Black cat got your tongue?" sneered Susie. Hermione finally looked ready to answer when Ron came up behind her. The three girls simultaneously gasped. With a confidence that he didn't know he had, and, as Hermone stared at him in astonishment, he placed his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her quickly on the cheek and said "There you are! Can you lend us some money then? I left mine at home and I really like this CD. It's _very _loud. Ladies," with that, Ron nodded towards the girls and steered Hermione around towards the cashier. Hermione paid the clerk in silence. Three sets of glaring eyes watched the two of them exit the shop.

When they were safely outside and a few shops away. Hermione stopped and turned to Ron. "What. Was. That?" she asked, shaking slightly. Ron shrugged. "I dunno, those lot are a bit like Slytherins aren't they? I heard them talking to you. Quite obnoxious bunch. I just figured it would be fun to give them something to talk about." 

Hermione stared at him for a moment and Ron was very afraid that perhaps he'd gone too far. He thought she looked angry. To his relief, Hermione started laughing, "Well, thank you. I don't think I'll forget the look on their faces for a while. They're quite jealous. I heard them talking about you near the magazines. They were quite taken with the mysterious stranger. I guess there's not much else to do around here." Hermione collapsed onto a nearby bench, rolling with laughter.

Just then, the three girls exited the shop. Ron took Hermione's hand and pulled her up from the bench. "Come on then, calm down. I'm _starving _and I could use some fish and chips." Hermione rose from the bench and they walked together down the street, hand in hand.


	11. THE LOCK

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Hermione and Ron. I stole the walk home from Jane Austen, the bathroom from the Brady Bunch, and a concept from It's a Wonderful Life. Somewhere in here there might be something original.

A/N: Well, things will be a little rocky for Hermione and Ron, but here is just a bit of an awkward situation to get both their minds moving…

PART XI: THE LOCK 

Ron and Hermione had a lovely dinner of fish and chips. Unfortunately, Ron had to let go of Hermione's hand in order to eat and was unsure whether he should try to hold it again on the way home. Instead, they walked back very slowly in the twilight, very close and barely touching, but occasionally bumping in to each other. Ron was amazed that their conversation had actually been quite normal, despite the fact that he felt like the nerves in the entire right side of his body had become extra sensitive.

When they got inside, Ron felt a bit strange when he saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger sitting in the living room. It was as though he was unpleasantly being jerked back into reality. He was a bit relieved that Mrs. Granger wanted Hermione to sit down with her to a game of Scrabble. Mr. Granger suggested to Ron that perhaps he could teach Ron some new chords on the guitar. 

Ron and Mr. Granger had quite a lot of fun with the guitars. It seemed that Mr. Granger was excited to have someone else in the house show an interest in his musical toys. He showed Ron some tricks on the guitar, and Ron was happy for the advice. Still, Ron felt a little odd around Mr. Granger. Would Mr. Granger be this nice to him if he knew that every other minute he was daydreaming about kissing Hermione? Ron knew that his own father had nearly exploded about ten years earlier when a cheeky five year-old Muggle neighbor had kissed his sister Ginny on the cheek. 

Ron woke up quite early the next morning. Groggily he stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was just rinsing the new toothbrush that Mrs. Granger had given him on the first night of his visit, when he heard a small shriek. Lifting his head, he noticed for the first time that the mirror in the bathroom was foggy. He also noticed the sound of water running behind him. Slowly, he raised his hand and rubbed a clear spot on the mirror and could just make out a pale face with dark hair in the reflection. Ron swirled around to see Hermione, hair wet and plastered to her head, grasping the shower curtain in her right hand. He felt a grin fall across his face and suddenly he felt very awake. He had a lot of experience teasing girls in embarrassing situations. As much as he loved his sister Ginny, he had practiced tormenting her for 14 years and was very skilled.

"Good morning Hermione!" he said brightly.

"Ron! What are you _doing?_ Can you leave? Now? Please?" Hermione avoided his eyes and pulled the shower curtain around herself tightly.

"You told me to lock the door if I didn't want you barging in on me. Since you've left the door unlocked, I will assume that you _do_ want me barging in on _you…_" said Ron, placing his hands behind his back and pacing up and down on the small, furry bathroom rug.

"_Ron!_ This is _my_ bathroom. There's usually nobody in that room. I forgot to lock the other door. Besides, couldn't you hear the water running?"

"Well, you see, Hermione, I'm not really a morning person."

"Get out before I scream again!"

"Ahhhh," said Ron, raising an eyebrow, "but who will hear you scream? No one else is home right now."

"Get OUT, or – or – I'll tell your mother!"

"Oh, well, my mother's all the way at the Burrow. She can't really help you from there. Maybe you could Apparate – don't tell me you haven't read up on that yet? I figured you could probably do it by now."

Hermione reached behind her with her free hand and after some creative maneuvering, managed to throw a slimy bar of soap at him, although it went flying through the air about two feet past his head and landed with a dull thump on the floor. Ron looked at the soap, and then looked up at Hermione, and for a moment, stared openly, wishing, to his surprise, that the shower curtain was not such a dark, opaque shade of blue. She stared back at him for a moment and their eyes met briefly. He felt his heart do a funny jump, and then…

"RON!" He noticed with shock that she looked as though she might burst into tears. He felt his face start to burn and felt instantly ashamed. This was not exactly the same as teasing Ginny. He also realized with some embarrassment that he was wearing only his pajama bottoms, as the night had been very warm and he had pulled his t-shirt off at some point. He reached over to the hook on the door and pulled off Hermione's soft blue dressing gown. He turned his head towards the door into his own room, reached out his arm and handed it to Hermione.

He felt her grab the dressing gown out of his hands briskly. He left the bathroom and heard her mutter "thanks" very quietly. Almost as soon as he closed the door behind him, he heard a loud click as Hermione made sure that it was locked. 

Ron flopped down on his bed and put his arms underneath his head, eyebrows crossed in confusion and concern. After a moment, however, a wide smile spread across his face. Chuckling to himself, he reached for his clothes on the floor and changed quickly. 


	12. THE FELLYTONE

Disclaimer: Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone. JK Rowling created everything else…

A/N: Words cannot express how happy all of the reviews are making me. I will tell you that there are 8 more chapters and they are pretty much done. I was going to post them in a chunk, but I want to keep them in these chapters, so I will just be posting them more quickly. Thanks for reading and please be patient – I promise that you will like the ending!

PART XII: THE FELLYTONE 

Ron had made an enormous mound of toast by the time that Hermione descended into the kitchen. She seemed very calm, too calm, as though she had spent the last hour teaching herself to be relaxed up in her room.

"Clean?" asked Ron before he knew what he was doing. He smiled sheepishly.

Hermione looked as though she might be very angry with him, and then she surprised him by laughing. "Only partly," she answered, grabbing a piece of toast from the stack, "I threw the soap at you before I'd finished."

Ron was relieved to see that she was not going to be angry with him for the rest of the day. He felt very edgy and nervous and happy at the same time. He found it hard to believe that he was the same person who had arrived at the Grangers four days earlier. He hadn't been bored at all, even though there were no other boys around (Mr. Granger didn't count). He hadn't even missed Harry, as a matter of fact, in a way, he was a little glad that Harry wasn't there. As he thought this, he felt a little bit guilty. He wondered if the Dursleys were treating Harry awfully and he also wondered how Harry would react if he knew that Ron had spent the past three days trying to think of ways to kiss Hermione.

"Hermione – can we use that fellytone thing and give Harry a call? I feel like its been ages since I talked to him."

Hermione looked up from the Daily Prophet. "The what? Oh! Yes! It's called a _te-le-phone_ Ron. We should do it this morning. I've called him twice already. It's best to call in the mornings because his uncle is at work. We have a code system worked out to get around his aunt and cousin."

"A code?"

"Yes, well, they don't like for him to use the telephone and the first time I called, his aunt answered the phone and wouldn't let me speak with him. So, the next time I called, Harry answered and we worked out a system. Come on, I'll show you. If I call him, I have to call at 10 o'clock, that's part of the system."

Hermione led Ron to the hallway, where a telephone was sitting. Hermione picked up the top part of it and walked back into the kitchen.

"Don't you need the rest of it?" asked Ron, puzzled.

"Nope," answered Hermione, grinning at his puzzled expression, "there's a sort of miniature radio inside here that communicates with the base in the hallway. You can't go very far with it, but you can go all over the house. The base connects to the wall, which connects to the telephone wires. They run outside to a central switchboard and…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she noticed Ron take a piece of paper and pretend to take notes to what she was saying.

"Well, fine, Ron, if you don't want to learn…"

"I'm just kidding. Come on, don't be cross. I just want to know how to _use_ the thing. The last time I tried I shouted into it and Harry's uncle got really upset with me."

"That's because you don't need to shout. Now, you have to dial the right number. It's called a 'telephone number.'" Hermione started pressing some of the buttons. She put the phone up to her ear and waited a second.

"It's ringing," she said to him quickly, and then, her voice changed tone completely. She started talking with a very posh adult accent. It was a very good impression. "Yes, hello, is this the lady of the house? Is this Mrs. Petunia Dursley? Well, Mrs. Dursley, I am calling to inform you that you are eligible for a free weekend in Majorca if you just sign up for one of our low-interest rate credit cards you stupid idiotic woman…"

Ron stared at Hermione in amazement. She laughed outright, clicked a button on the telephone and took it away from her ear.

"Muggles use telephones to sell things all the time, and it's quite a nuisance. Most people consider it an intrusion when strangers call them up. Harry's aunt hates it, she's suspicious of everyone. She hung up on me! That means that she turned it off. She always does. Apparently she starts screaming out loud about invasions of privacy after I call. So, Harry goes and turns off the ringers on the phones and plugs an old one that he salvaged from Dudley's room into his room. It takes about five minutes for him to get done usually. It would be much easier if Harry could call me, but then his aunt and uncle would get upset because of the charges."

Ron looked admiringly at Hermione. She was really quite smart working out these schemes all the time. He stared a bit too long, and she blushed and cleared her throat and said, "right, let's try again, shall we?"

She dialed again and held the phone up to her ear, looking expectant. Then she smiled, "Harry! Its Hermione! Is your aunt _very _angry? I told her she could win a trip to Majorca! Well, don't worry, school starts in a week and then you'll be rid of them for another 9 months at least. Yes, he's right here – you want to talk?" This last phrase was addressed to Ron and Hermione held out the telephone to him. He took it and held it up to his ear as Hermione had done.

"Now, remember, Ron, just speak normally." Ron rolled his eyes at her. He had made a mistake once before, but he wasn't thick.

Harry was laughing on the other end.

"Shuddup Harry." Ron spoke normally although he felt a bit funny talking to a piece of plastic. He pulled it away from his ear for a moment and looked at it curiously, and then put it back. He could hear Harry talking at the other end of the line.

"Ron! How is life at the Grangers? Are they treating you well?"

"Yeah, of course. I learned how to cook on Tuesday."

"What did you make?"

"Toast and a pie."

"What other girly skills have you been picking up?"

It was great to be talking to a boy again. 

"I've been learning to play the guitar. Hermione's dad knows how."

"Really? Dudley's got a guitar but he doesn't use it. Are you any good?"

"Yeah, I think so, anyway. So, has Sirius been to see you lately?"

"He was here on Sunday. I've got loads to tell you, but I wanted to do it in person. It's nothing that can't wait until next week."

"Are the Dursley's bringing you to Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah, of course, they said they had other business in London anyway."

"It's too bad that you don't live closer to where Hermione does, or we could come get you."

Hermione made a signal to Ron that she was leaving the room and would be right back. Ron nodded and then said, into the telephone,

"Harry – er, there's something I kind of wanted to talk over with you."

"Oh? Really? Like what?

Ron walked towards the door to the kitchen and peered out into the hallway. No sign of Hermione. Retreating back inside, he whispered into the phone, "it's about Hermione."

"What about Hermione? Is she driving you crazy with all her Muggle lessons? She sent me a letter and she outlined an entire schedule for you, asking me if there was anything she missed. You're going to know more about Muggles than I do by the end of the week."

"Er, no, its not that – look - before I came here on Sunday, I had a talk with Fred and George, and I think they've put some strange ideas into my head."

"About Hermione?" Ron thought he detected a hint of amusement in Harry's voice.

Ron felt his face growing red, and at that moment, he heard a voice in the background yell "Harry! Where are you boy? There's work that needs to be done in the garden." He heard Harry yell "Coming!" and then, a bit louder in his ear, "look Ron, I've got to go now. Send me an owl if you can. If not, then get Hermione to help you call later. Otherwise, I'll talk to you next week."

"Right Harry. It's not really that important anyway. Don't work too hard out in that garden! Bye!" Ron heard a click and then a tone in his ear and Hermione walked back into the kitchen. She looked a bit hurt as Ron took the phone down from his ear. "Didn't he want to talk to me again?" Ron shrugged his shoulders, "Aunt Petunia was beckoning. He said we can try again tomorrow."

Ron sat back down at the kitchen table and absentmindedly tore up pieces of his toast. What had he almost confessed to Harry? There was nothing to tell really. He looked over to where Hermione was washing up some of the dishes. She was wearing a rose-colored sundress and her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail which didn't puff out as much as usual. The effect was similar to how it had looked at the Yule Ball. He had an overwhelming urge to walk up to her and kiss her right there. What had Fred said? Element of surprise? No, he wasn't ready for that yet. Without a word, he pushed his chair away from the table and headed down the hallway to listen to his CD.


	13. FAIRIES IN THE GARDEN

Disclaimer: JK Rowling's genius created Ron and Hermione. The Diary belongs to Arabella and I hope that you all get to meet her very soon.

A/N: This is like me as a child - I used to think that there were fairies in the garden, but I never actually saw them. Also, Ron carrying the guitar around everywhere after him is modeled after my boyfriend. The morning after I wrote this, he wandered into the kitchen playing the guitar and I nearly died laughing. He never sang a song for me though…

Also, I am posting XIII - XV in rapid succession. Looks like I finally got some flames for Chapter XII. I have nothing to say - Hermione and Ron were meant to be - a centaur told me. All of the H/H shippers will be _very _disappointed when Book V comes out. I can tell…

CHAPTER XIII: FAIRIES IN THE GARDEN

Hermione left him alone for most of the morning. It was strange that all he really wanted to do was spend more time with her, yet he was very relieved that she was not in the room. Around lunchtime, however, he became a bit concerned, and unable to sit still; he got up, guitar still around his neck and wandered around the house looking for her. She was nowhere to be found indoors.

He went to the back door and peered out. He could just make out the figure of Hermione sitting amongst some trees at the very edge of the garden. The Grangers had ample backyard space, which backed onto a wooded area with a stream. She looked like she was writing something, probably homework, and Ron headed out into the yard towards her. 

Hermione must have heard him approach, because she looked up before he reached her, closed the book she was writing in, and gave him a quizzical look.   
"Are you going to carry that thing around everywhere with you Ron?" she asked, glancing at the guitar that he was balancing with his right hand.

"I dunno," he answered. "I just kind of like having it right now. What are you writing?" As he looked down, he recognized the diary that Hermione carried around with her everywhere. It must be bewitched somehow, because it was not very big, yet she wrote in it all the time. "Oh, I see you have your diary – do youcarry that thing around everywhere?"

Ron's tone was light, but secretly, he was a bit concerned. He would have given his right arm to know what was in that diary. Twice he had even attempted to sneak a look, but Hermione had caught him before he could even catch a glimpse. He knew that there must be something about him inside, and he wanted to know how good or bad it was.

Hermione smiled softly. Her hair was beginning to return to its normal puffiness due to the humidity but Ron found that he preferred it that way. Ron observed for the second time that day how much he liked the rose sundress she was wearing. It had a small pocket on the front of it, that looked completely useless, but Ron found it extremely cute and smiled to himself as he looked at it.

They sat still for a few moments, not speaking, until Ron saw something silver and small run past his leg. He turned his head quickly, "Hermione – are there fairies in this garden?"

She smiled brightly and pointed to a large tree about 20 feet away. "There's a whole slew of them that live around that tree. When I was young, before I knew I was a witch, I used to come out here and watch them for hours. I didn't know that Muggles don't normally see them, and my parents weren't concerned when I mentioned them. Apparently most Muggle children like to pretend that they see fairies anyway. After I was accepted at Hogwarts, my mother asked me one night about it and I brought her out here and tried to show her. She finally admitted to seeing something glittering by the tree, but I'm not sure if she was telling the truth. I could see about thirty of them dancing in a circle right in front of us."

Ron nodded, "it's nicer to have fairies in your garden than it is to have gnomes."

"Oh," said Hermione thoughtfully, "I dunno. Fairies are beautiful but it's a lot of fun throwing gnomes over the garden wall!"

Ron began absentmindedly plucking a tune out on the guitar. "That's lovely," said Hermione. "What is it?"

"I dunno," answered Ron with a laugh. "I just made it up right now. There aren't any words." Then, assuming a dreamy expression on his face, he plucked the tune again and sang, "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione Granger, don't you, don't you, don't you be a stranger…" He ended with a loud strum of all six strings and then stood up and bowed.

Hermione giggled and tried to look annoyed, but Ron could tell she was pleased. 

She stood up as well and, as she smoothed her skirt, Ron asked, "Are there any Muggle Studies planned for this afternoon?" 

Hermione shrugged, "It's so warm outside today – I feel very lazy. I tried to make sure I had done all the summer reading for Ancient Runes this morning, but I didn't get very far."

Ron was sure that Hermione had most likely read everything she needed to ten times already, and felt a bit guilty about all of his school books locked away in his trunk, untouched since he had arrived at the Grangers.

Hermione started strolling slowly towards the house, "I thought we might have a bit of lunch in front of the telly."


	14. I WANT MY MTV

Disclaimer: If I saw JK Rowling right now, I would kiss her.

A/N: Isn't Crookshanks cool?

CHAPTER XIV: I WANT MY MTV

"The what? The telly? Is that short for telephone? Are we going to sit and stare at it?"

Hermione suppressed a smile. "Honestly Ron, you really should have taken Muggle Studies. The _telly _is the _television_ – it's a bit like the cinema except in your house. It's like the Wizarding Wireless Network with pictures. You can watch movies, if they're on the schedule, or the news, or television programs, which are usually half an hour, or even cartoons. You see, we have cable television, which means that there is an actual cable that goes from our television in our house, underground to a central location. Cable gives you access to more channels, which my parents like because there are many more educational programs that way…"

"Okay, okay Professor Granger – I get the idea. Why don't you just show me?"

Hermione looked at him exasperatedly. "Don't you want to know _how _it all works?"

"Of course I do," he lied, "but first lets get some food and let me actually see the thing."

They made sandwiches and carried them into the living room with some carrot sticks (the Grangers would not allow crisps in their house). They sat on the sofa and Hermione reached for a little black contraption. She held it up for him to look at. "This is a remote control. It means that I can turn the television on without leaving the sofa. It's a bit like magic really. Your father would love this. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a television hooked up in that garage of his."

Hermione pointed the remote at the television and it flickered on. The Grangers' television was not very large, and Hermione had to get up anyway to remove a large pile of books stacked in front of it. 

Because the day was so warm, all of the windows in the room were open and a large ceiling fan was whirring around overhead. Hermione pointed the remote at the television a second time and the picture began to change. "Now I'm looking for something to watch by changing the channel. What are you in the mood for? Comedy? Action? Romance? Mystery? Drama?"

"Are there any music channels?" asked Ron hopefully.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but grudgingly pressed some buttons on the remote. "MTV is on channel 32. It is a station devoted to music videos, which are like little films that musicians make up for songs." (A/N: I will just say here that the last time I had cable was 1996, and at that time, MTV had already abandoned videos in favor of shows like "Spring Break Beach Bash with Really Lame Musicians" but lets pretend that in Hermione and Ron's world, MTV still plays videos round the clock…) 

Ron recognized the first band instantly – it was Nirvana, whose CD he had purchased the other day. The video took place in what looked like a school and all of the band members looked very unhappy. At one point, an old man appeared wearing a ballerina outfit, dancing with a mop. Ron laughed outright, "I can just picture Filch dancing the night away like that!" Hermione started laughing as well as they joked about the thought of Argus Filch, the Hogwarts custodian and obstacle to late night student wanderings, dancing around in a tutu with his mop, his sulky cat Mrs. Norris running circles around him.

They watched several more videos, and then a show called the "Flashback Café" (A/N: this is actually the name of an 80s show on a local radio station where I live) The first video was a band called "Van Halen" ("what's 'Van Halen' mean Hermione?" "No idea Ron, I think it's just a name") came on. The lead singer was really showing an amazing amount of energy as he bounded around a stage in outrageous outfits, singing for everyone to just "Jump!" Near the middle of the song, a guitar player stepped forward and began to play his red and white guitar faster than Ron ever thought imaginable. When the video was over, Ron sat speechless, not even noticing the next video. He was wondering how much practicing it would take before he could play a guitar half so quickly.

Ron was jerked back into reality when a large, hairy, orange cat jumped onto his lap and then attempted to wedge itself between Ron and the end of the loveseat. Ron and Hermione stared at each other in amazement. Ron did not _hate_ Hermione's cat Crookshanks, but they had never been the best of friends. Ron looked down at Crookshanks, puzzled. "Is he just going to sit there or does he have a plan of attack?" As he spoke, Crookshanks pushed at Ron's legs with his paws, forcing him to move closer to Hermione. Then Crookshanks began to knead into Ron's thigh with his paws, purring loudly. Hermione reached over to rub Crookshanks affectionately between the ears, "Crookshanks is a good kitty, aren't you Crookshanks? And you like Ron too, don't you – you were only mean to him because his rat was _evil_."

"Okay, okay," said Ron good-naturedly, rubbing Crookshank's back and fluffy orange tail. "We'll be friends now."

Ron was aware that he and Hermione were now sitting very close together. Hermione had moved down a bit to allow Ron some more room, but the sofa was small and Crookshanks was a rather large cat. No matter which way he arranged himself, he and Hermione were touching slightly. A chill ran through the right side of his body and he could feel his ears turning pink.

Hermione reached over to whisper sweet nothings to Crookshanks, who was certainly getting more than his fair share of attention, and Ron smelled a delightful, sweet, minty smell. It was coming from Hermione's hair. Instinctively he bent closer to inhale it more deeply, when Hermione raised her head and knocked into Ron's chin. "Ow!" exclaimed Ron, rubbing his jaw.

"Oh! my! Are you all right? What happened?"

"Nothing, my chin just got in the way of your head."

Hermione reached up and grasped Ron's chin firmly in her hand. She turned his head sideways and looking at it clinically, stated, "it won't bruise, I think you'll live."

Without realizing what he was doing, Ron reached up to his face and covered her hand with his. She didn't jerk her hand away, and Ron thought he felt her tremble, although he was trembling a bit himself. Thoughtfully, he lowered her hand onto the couch, and they sat there for quite a while, watching videos and not saying much. Occasionally, Ron would glance down at Hermione's hand (she was still wearing the sparkly nail polish from Ginny) and slowly he rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. Still staring at the television, Hermione squeezed his hand back and they sat like that, as if afraid to move, until they heard a flapping noise and saw a familiar looking dark gray owl fly into the room.


	15. STUPID BULGARIAN OWL

Disclaimer: Doesn't JK Rowling have the coolest job in the world?

A/N: I just had to use that line in a title. Somehow that owl always makes it difficult for Ron to STAY IN CONTROL.

CHAPTER XV: STUPID BULGARIAN OWL

Ron recognized the dark gray (better known as the "stupid Bulgarian") owl as the one that belonged to Viktor Krum. Magical or not, this owl was certainly getting it's exercise flying back and forth between Bulgaria and England and Ron felt it necessary to state as much. Hermione had let go of his hand in order to detach the letter from the owl's leg and Ron crossed his arms and said in a sulky voice, "Exactly how far away is Bulgaria anyway?"

"About 1500 miles, I think," replied Hermione matter-of-factly, "but Viktor's not in Bulgaria now. He's travelling with the Quidditch team and I think that they are in France."

"Oh," was the only answer that Ron could muster calmly. Crookshanks leapt from the sofa and began to hiss at the owl, who was perched importantly atop a pile of books. 'Well,' thought Ron with an approving look towards Crookshanks, 'we _do _have something in common after all.' 

The note from Viktor appeared to be short – the parchment on which it was written was very small. Hermione directed the owl into the kitchen for some water and food, and returned to the sofa a few minutes later, folding the parchment and placing it into a little pocket in the front of her dress. Earlier that afternoon, Ron had observed to himself that the very same little pocket was very cute, the way it was stuck on the front of the dress and obviously not good for holding anything useful. Now he glanced toward it contemptuously.

Hermione was watching the television again as if nothing had happened. Well, he wasn't going to hold her hand again if she was still sending love letters back and forth with Viktor Krum. Thinking that he sounded very calm and normal, he said through gritted teeth, "so, what's new with Vik – Viktor Krum?" He caught himself just before "Vicky" came out of his mouth.

"Oh…" said Hermione, looking a bit flustered, "he – he asked me a question in his last letter and I answered him, so he was just thanking me for the information. I told you – he's very polite and good about replying and things like that."

"What'd he ask you then?" asked Ron, feeling his freckles start to blend in with his face as he turned redder and redder.

"Oh!" replied Hermione dismissively, "nothing important!"

"Then why are you blushing?" This was true, Hermione was a bit flushed. As soon as he said it, Ron wished he hadn't. Hermione turned towards him, crimson with anger rather than embarrassment this time.

"Ron, drop it. I'm not _blushing_ and if my face is red it's probably because I am so annoyed with you for asking so many questions."

"Sor-_ry_. I was just trying to make conversation." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Ron, Viktor Krum is my friend. Am I allowed to have other friends in my life? Do we have to have a fight every time his name is mentioned? Harry doesn't mind if I'm friends with Viktor." Hermione's eyes were flashing, as if daring him to speak.

Ron opened his mouth, "Harry doesn't – Harry isn't…" his voice trailed off and he turned back towards the television, arms still crossed, his hands digging into them tightly. His stomach felt as though a brick was sitting in it.

Hermione stood up in a fury and stamped her foot at him, arms by her sides and fists clenched, "Harry doesn't _what _Ron? What are you trying to say?"

Ron stood up as well. "Did you kiss Viktor Krum when you were in Bulgaria?" he asked, rather loudly. Inside his head he was wondering where _that _had come from. He felt like a puppet and that someone else was dictating to him what to say and do. Maybe Fred and George had put the Imperious Curse on him before he left home and were making him act like an idiot. Yes, that must be it. Didn't they know that was illegal? He'd have their heads when he got back home.

Meanwhile, Hermione had opened her mouth to yell something at him, and then shut it quickly. Finally she said in a very quiet, level voice, "why do you care Ron?" When he didn't answer, she turned quickly and headed out of the room. He heard the back door slam and slumped back onto the sofa. Crookshanks jumped up onto his lap and sat there, purring loudly.


	16. THE GRANGERS: A HISTORY

Disclaimer: JK Rowling made the Grangers dentists.

A/N: I have had some issues with this chapter. I wasn't sure whether to include it or not. I just wanted Ron and Mr. Granger to bond. I think this one is pretty unrealistic (I can't imagine my father having had this talk with any of my boyfriends), but on the other hand, to Mr. Granger, Ron probably seems pretty harmless, whereas Viktor Krum was pretty scary. So, I'm leaving it as is, and I hope its enjoyable!

CHAPTER XVI: THE GRANGERS: A HISTORY

Ron sat fuming in front of the television set until tea time. He heard Hermione come back inside and stomp up to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. He was embarrassed and angry and wished that he knew how to Apparate, or that he had a broomstick, or anything. He would gladly risk practicing magic over the summer holidays in order to get away from this house. He should have used stupid Viktor's owl to send a message to the Burrow asking them to pick him up. Pigwidgeon should be here anyway. It was his owl, he didn't know why he had promised Ginny that she could use him all week. He still had a week until they were due to meet his family at Diagon Alley and he wouldn't stay here if Hermione was going to fight with him. He had obviously lost control of the situation and ruined everything. He would have been fine if Fred and George had not confused him before his visit about his feelings for Hermione.

Supper was a tense affair. Hermione had marched into the room at 6 o'clock, walked up to the television set, turned it off, and announced, "supper's ready" and then turned and marched out of the room, nose in air.

Ron heaved Crookshanks off of his lap, stretched out his long legs, and followed her lethargically. Mr. and Mrs. Granger tried to draw both of them into conversation, but were not successful. When Mrs. Granger asked Hermione to pass the rice to Ron, she placed the bowl in front of him so forcefully that a huge clump of rice bounced out onto the tablecloth. Ron felt even worse when he saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchange confused glances at each other.

After dinner, Ron stood up to help Mrs. Granger clear the table and Mr. Granger jumped up as well and asked in a very jolly voice, "Ron! Care to have a few more guitar lessons?" Ron agreed, grateful for any excuse to get away from Hermione for a while.

Ron and Mr. Granger set up the guitars and Mr. Granger showed Ron a few more techniques. Ron told Mr. Granger about the videos he had seen on MTV earlier in the day and discovered that Mr. Granger actually owned an early Van Halen album. They listened to that for a while, marveling at the speed with which the guitar hummed and whined.

After a while, Mr. Granger looked over to Ron and asked in an amused voice, "did you and Hermione quarrel over anything?" Ron looked up sharply, not sure to answer. Mr. Granger didn't look upset, in fact, he looked as though he might start laughing at any moment. Ron shrugged and answered, "did you know that Viktor Krum writes letters to her almost every day?"

Mr. Granger was pressing his lips together tightly, as though stifling a chuckle. The tips of Ron's ears went pink. He wasn't sure he liked the situation. Shouldn't Mr. Granger be more concerned about this? Wasn't Viktor Krum nearly 19 years old? What kind of father was he, anyway?

"I suppose you are concerned about this?" asked Mr. Granger, reaching over to change the record.

"Yeah, I suppose, I mean, I _am_ one of her best friends."

"And I suppose you voiced this concern to Hermione?"

"Well, wasn't it right to do so?"

"Ron, Ron, Ron," sighed Mr. Granger, removing his glasses briefly and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "the Granger woman is a mysterious and highly emotional being. You never know what might set it off. Fortunately, I suspect that they secretly enjoy fighting, so they always forgive you in time for another row to begin."

Ron listened to Mr. Granger, puzzled, and Mr. Granger continued, "I like you Ron, you're a smart boy and you seem to come from a nice family. Let me tell you a little story. It's about a devastatingly handsome dental student named Ted and a beautiful coed named Courtney."

Ron sat back in the chair, tapping his fingers on the guitar body, waiting to hear the story, which he was clever enough to realize was about Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Once upon a time, in a dental school far, far away, was a beautiful student named Courtney. She had rather voluminous brown hair and deep brown eyes and a lovely smile, which stood out, even at the dental school, where everyone's smiles were gorgeous. She sat in front of a student named Ted in their first year 'Introduction to the Molar' class and Ted was so taken with the back of her head that he nearly failed that course. He discovered that she would study in a local coffee shop several nights a week and he started to plan it so that he would bump into her there. They soon became good friends."

"Now, despite being amazingly attractive, Ted was very insecure and although he knew he was falling in love with Courtney, he was afraid to do anything about it. You see, Ted had rather large teeth as a child and, although modern dentistry had straightened them quite nicely, he still felt very self-conscious. You can imagine his horror when, one day, arriving at the coffee shop for a pre-arranged study session, he saw Vincent Krandall sitting at the table with Courtney."

"Who's Vincent Krandall?" asked Ron curiously.

"Who's Vincent Krandall?" Mr. Granger asked back in amazement, "only the son of one of the most advanced orthodontists in the world. He was also studying to be a dentist and although he was not nearly as handsome as Ted, Courtney seemed quite interested in his conversation. As Ted approached, he heard them discussing the popularity of braces among the nation's teens."

"What are braces?"

"They're devices used to straighten teeth that are crooked. Hermione would have started wearing them this summer if she hadn't magicked her teeth into shape. I won't admit it to my wife, but I think she did a magnificent job. Anyway, Ted noticed that more often than not, Vincent Krandall would join them at the table in the coffee shop and it seemed to him that Courtney truly enjoyed his presence. Ted felt sick and after a bit, he stopped joining them and took instead to sulking in his room and practicing his guitar." Mr. Granger pointed to the guitar that Ron was holding and smiled.

"Ted still had to see Courtney in the molar class, and she was always friendly to him. One day after class, she took him aside and asked him if he wouldn't come by the shop later that evening to study. Instead of agreeing to do so, he asked if Krandall was going to be there. Courtney said that she didn't know and Ted told her she should keep better tabs on her boyfriend. That was the wrong thing to say. Courtney called him a stupid prat and told him that he was thick and then ran down the corridor."

Ron was looking down at his hands at this point. This story was sounding awfully familiar. 

"The following week was terrible. Courtney wouldn't even look at Ted in class and one night as he was strolling past the coffee shop, he noticed her sitting alone, reading. He walked past that window 12 times before finally deciding to go in and talk to her. And do you know what he did then?" Ron shook his head. "He walked straight up to her and when she saw him, she stood up. He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her!" With that, Mr. Granger snapped his fingers and shook his head. "And do you know what happened then?" Ron shook his head again, this time looking at Mr. Granger as though he'd lost his mind, "She kissed him back! It was terribly romantic. She hadn't cared two figs for that Krandall character but she knew that jealousy might make Ted wake up a bit sooner." Mr. Granger looked at Ron and tapped his forehead with his finger, "smart girls, those Grangers…a bit too quick for us blokes most of the time."

Mr. Granger stood up and patted Ron warmly on the back. I wouldn't be too concerned about Viktor Krum if I were you, Ron. However," he said as he walked toward the door, his eyes twinkling, "keep an eye out for me. Fathers don't like to see their daughters growing up. I like you, and for what it's worth, I think Hermione likes you back. Treat her with respect and we'll get along just fine." With a wink, Mr. Granger left the room and Ron sat in the chair for a long time, thinking that the conversation he had just had must have been the strangest one in his life.


	17. THE BIG CITY

Disclaimer: JK Rowling invented Ron's adorable pink ears

A/N: We're getting closer…

CHAPTER XVII: THE BIG CITY

Ron was surprised to see Mr. and Mrs. Granger at breakfast the following morning. Instead of toast, Mrs. Granger presented him with a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, and potatoes. Hermione was sitting at the table as well, resting her chin in her right hand and stirring scrambled eggs around her plate with her left hand.

"Don't you have to work today?" asked Ron curiously. Mrs. Granger smiled brightly at him.

"We only had a few appointments so we cancelled them in order to take a long weekend. There's that teen dance club in town on Friday nights and earlier in the week Hermione had expressed an interest in going. We decided that since we had to drive you in anyway, we would just take an entire day. We'll drop you wherever you want to go and pick you up at the club at 11 tonight. Is there anything in particular that you might like to see during the day?"

"Are there any music shops?" asked Ron, ignoring Hermione, who muttered something about one-track minds under her breath.

"I'm sure that there are, Ron," answered Mrs. Granger, giving Hermione a warning glance. Hermione straightened slightly, but continued to push her food around her plate.

"Wouldn't you two like to go to a museum or do something educational?" asked Mr. Granger. 

"I wanted to go to the bookstore," said Hermione firmly. "That's a surprise," muttered Ron softly into his eggs so that only Hermione could hear him. She kicked him swiftly under the table and he jumped angrily, but kept quiet, not wishing to make a scene.

"Well," said Mr. Granger, "in that case, we will drop you off downtown. There are several music stores and several book stores, new and used, and you can both shop to your heart's content."

The car ride into the city was very interesting for Ron, and he saw a lot, especially since he had to stare out of the window to avoid looking at the back of Hermione's head. She had obviously decided that he wasn't worth talking to. 'Probably planning to write to Viktor all about me," he thought sullenly.

The Grangers dropped them off in the center of town, with instructions on how to get to the dance club. 

"Do you know where anything is around here?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded. She pointed to a tall building on the corner and mumbled, "that's a big music store right there." She pointed to the building across the street, "and that's a bookshop. Let's meet in there in an hour?"

Ron shrugged, annoyed that they were fighting, but very excited to get into the music shop. They crossed the street and went their separate ways. When Ron entered the shop, he was amazed at all of the CDs and albums everywhere. There were dozens of listening stations, and Ron picked up ten CDs and headed into one of them. He was so engrossed, that when he finally exited, he realized that he had been in there for almost two hours. Grudgingly he returned the CDs to their place, and headed across the street.

The book shop was as large as the music one, and Ron guessed that there were enough books to fill the Hogwarts library twice over. He wasn't sure how he was going to find Hermione, but instinctively headed for the magazine section, which was in the front of the store. It was probably the last place that she would be, but if he was late anyway, he might as well look at some guitar magazines. He stopped short when he saw Hermione curled up in an armchair near the window, a pile of magazines at her feet. He craned his neck to see which one she was reading. It was called _Seventeen_ ('she's jumping the gun as usual,' thought Ron wryly) and on the cover was a cheerful looking young woman. The text on the front said things like, "Ten Days to Clear Skin!" and "In Love With Your Best Friend? How to Make Him Like You Back!" Ron froze. What if she was reading that story? What if she really did like him and not Viktor? Looking around, he tried to figure out a way to sneak behind Hermione so that he could catch a glimpse of which page she was reading. Quietly, he walked around to the wall of magazines behind the chair that Hermione was sitting in. He poked his head around, and was just about to lean over to get a better look at the magazine, when a small child came running by and knocked into him. He lost his balance briefly, and knocked a few magazines off the rack. 

Hermione looked up, and when she saw him, closed the magazine quickly and dropped it on the floor. She jumped up, "Has it been an hour already?" Ron laughed, "Er, actually, it's been over two hours. Have you been sitting here the whole time?" he inquired, glancing at the pile of magazines near her chair. 

Hermione's face was very red. "Ginny wanted me to get her a Muggle magazine like the Wizarding one that she sent to me. I was just trying to figure out which one she would like the best."

"Ah," said Ron shortly, and then, for lack of anything else asked, "are you hungry?"

Hermione agreed that she was, and Ron was relieved to notice that she was acting much nicer to him than she had been earlier. He supposed he should apologize about their fight the day before, but he didn't feel like it yet. He was still wondering what was going on with Viktor Krum.


	18. THE TEEN DANCE PARTY

Disclaimer: It's because of JK Rowling that Hermione's so smart

A/N: ACK! There are only 19 chapters, not twenty. I lied (actually, I just can't count). So, we're near the end folks. Can you tell what is going to happen?

CHAPTER XVIII: THE TEEN DANCE PARTY

After a quick meal, Ron and Hermione walked towards the dance club. There was already a long line forming outside, and they headed for the back of it.

Hermione asked a short boy with extremely baggy pants in front of them what time the club opened. Apparently they had almost an hour to wait. Several people were simply sitting on the street in groups, playing cards, talking, smoking, or people watching.

Ron and Hermione stood in place awkwardly and Ron, for one, had nothing to talk about. He knew what he _wanted_ to talk about. He wanted to know what was so important that Viktor Krum had to write to Hermione twice in one week in-between Quidditch practices. He also wanted to know which article in the magazine she had been reading, what she wrote about him in her diary, and how she would react if he kissed her. All of these things, however, were not easy to vocalize, so, instead, he stood there, rocking back and forth on his feet, waiting for time to pass. 

Random thoughts flitted through his head. He decided that the Muggle approach to music and dancing was definitely better than the Wizarding way. Although he was happy with his new dress robes, he had been relieved to find out that Muggle teenagers rarely dressed up for anything. He was extremely comfortable in his khaki cotton trousers and t-shirt. He glanced at Hermione. She was looking very pretty, pouting a bit as she did when she was angry with him or deep in thought. She was wearing a white top with puffy short sleeves and little embroidered flowers around the neckline. Her shorts were made out of the same material as a pair of jeans, and his eyes wandered down her legs to her sandals, noticing that she was wearing Ginny's sparkly blue polish on her toes as well.

He wondered if he could bring up Viktor Krum without a fight starting. He decided against it as the line started moving.

Hermione paid for both of them and when they entered the club, they stood to the side for a while, watching everyone dancing. Hermione apologized to him for her lack of musical knowledge, "I've never been here before," she shouted over the beat, "I don't know much about this music, but I guess you'll be happy – it's loud." Ron nodded in agreement and smiled at her. She smiled back and for a moment he felt as though everything would be all right.

It was noisy in the club and Ron was a bit relieved that he really couldn't talk to Hermione, even if he wanted to. Instead, he stared out at the crowded dance floor and tried to concentrate on what was filtering through his ears.

After they had been standing for a while, Ron felt a bit thirsty and offered to get them something to drink. She gave him some of the money that her parents had allotted for the outing and he headed towards the "bar" which was serving sodas. It took quite a while to fight his way through the crowd and when he got back to their spot, Hermione was deep in conversation with a tall, good-looking boy of about seventeen. 

Ron scowled and plunked the cokes down on the nearest table. Hermione laughed at something the boy said, and then shook her head apologetically. Ron slid into a chair and sat there, legs and arms crossed, brow furrowed. He was startled when a voice shouted at him, "Abandoned by your girlfriend already?" He looked up to see Susie, one of the girls from the CD shop the other day, the one who had been particularly nasty to Hermione, standing across from him.

Before Ron could answer, Susie had taken a seat across from him. Ron glanced across the room and saw Hermione still chatting with the tall boy. He shrugged at Susie and didn't say anything. He was quite good at ignoring girls at dances, as he had managed to anger Padma Patil, his date to the Yule Ball at Christmas after only fifteen minutes by refusing to dance with her, and he hoped that this one would just go away.

Susie leaned forward and asked, "Do you dance?"

Ron surveyed the dance floor. Muggle dancing was really quite different than the dancing he was used to observing. Actually, despite his performance at the Yule Ball at Christmas, Ron was quite a good dancer in the Wizarding world. His mother had forced him and his sister Ginny to learn when they were very young. It didn't look like it took much skill to dance the Muggle way. No one was really dancing in pairs, and it seemed as though people were just making up the steps as they went along. As long as it was in time to the music, it didn't really seem to matter.

He shrugged again, "A bit."

Susie stood up again and walked over to Ron's side of the table. She grabbed his arm and encouraged him to get up, "Come on then," she said in a sickly sweet voice, "I'm sure Hermione won't mind – she's occupied at the moment." Susie had obviously seen Hermione talking to the boy as well. Ron looked back in Hermione's direction. She was now looking at him over the boy's shoulder with a look of horror on her face. She said something to the boy, and then started to walk towards the table, just as Susie pulled Ron out to the dance floor. Susie was already dancing by the time Hermione reached him.

Without realizing what he was doing, he said, "You're quite popular aren't you?" 

Ignoring his tone, Hermione answered, "His name is Simon. He goes to my parents' church. He asked me to dance just now."

"Well, why didn't you say yes?"

"Because I didn't feel like it."

"Oh, I guess after dancing with Viktor Krum, no one could compare."

Hermione glanced at him sharply but didn't say a word. Ron pushed past her out onto the dance floor.

Susie was actually quite a good dancer, although a little vulgar, and Ron found that the Muggle dancing was quite enjoyable. He hadn't had any really good exercise since arriving at the Grangers (no Quidditch), and it felt good to release some tension.


	19. THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.....

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters, but I created their present situation.

A/N: I hope you like it. I am teary-eyed at posting this last chapter. Everyone who reviewed has been soooo wonderful. I won't name everyone individually, but I am very grateful that you enjoyed the story and gave me valuable comments. So, without further ado, here is…

CHAPTER XIX: THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

Ron saw Hermione slump into a chair and take a small sip of her soda.

He made a resolution to concentrate on the music that was playing and to enjoy his dancing. 

Despite his resolution, Ron couldn't help checking in on Hermione every minute or so. After the third or fourth time he looked towards the table where she was sitting, he thought he saw something reflected on her cheek in the strange lights of the club. Was she – was she crying? She didn't notice him looking at her and as he stopped dancing and strained over the heads of the people dancing in front of him to see more clearly. He saw that a few tears were streaming down her cheeks. He felt terrible.

Hermione brushed at her eyes and looked up. She saw him staring, and then, pressing her lips together, stood up and began fighting her way through the crowd of dancers. As she passed him, he shouted, "Hermione!" but she ignored him and kept going navigating through the people gyrating wildly on the crowded dance floor.

There was only one thing to do. Ignoring his dance partner, Ron began striding through the crowd behind Hermione. He assumed that she was heading for a door, but in the confusion seemed to be heading straight for a wall on the opposite side of the room. When she reached it, she stopped and looked around wildly, searching for a way to leave.

Ron's long legs caught up with her quickly, and he reached for her shoulder. She turned to face him and he saw that the tears were now flowing freely down her face, although she was making no noise. 

"Hermione – don't – don't cry, _please_," he implored.

"I'm _not_ crying," stated Hermione stoutly, wiping her face quickly. "It's warm in here and there is something in my eye. I was just trying to find a way out of this place."

Ron grabbed her other shoulder and stared down at her fiercely, but he wasn't sure what to do or say next. 

Hermione looked up at him angrily. "Anyway, what do you care if I _did_ cry? You obviously don't care about my feelings, and you obviously don't think very much of me."

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione. He flushed and was about to launch into a tirade about how she was crazy and not being fair, when Fred and George's voices came back to haunt him. STAY IN CONTROL. He took a very deep breath, and, said slowly, "Why would you say a thing like that?"

"Do you just think that I run around throwing myself at any boy who shows an interest in me? Do you think that I would _knowingly_ lead somebody on?"

"What _are _you on about?" This conversation was beginning to sound like an argument and was not helped by the fact that they were forced to shout at each other in order to hear over the loud beat of music. Exasperated, Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and before she could jerk away, pulled her towards the door of the club. They exited past the security guard, who stamped both their hands so that they could re-enter, and emerged onto the street. It was just starting to get dark and the temperature outside was comfortable and not too hot for the first time in days. Ron took a deep breath, but as he did so, Hermione picked up the conversation exactly where she had left off.

"You – you just _assume_ that because I get two letters from Viktor Krum in one week that somehow he is my boyfriend. You just think that if some boy is talking to me in a club that I must have enticed him to come over to me. You don't even stop to think that maybe you don't really know what is going on."

"All right," said Ron, feeling himself start to shake, control was not an attainable goal at this point, "_what_ don't I know about then? What is Viktor writing to you about, and, while you're at it, you can answer my question from yesterday about whether or not he kissed you."

"That is NONE of your business."

"So, I take it that's a yes!"

"I didn't say that."

"So, what are you saying?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she stuck her nose in the air and said finally, "If you must know, he did want to kiss me."

"And?"

"And, contrary to what you obviously think of me, I wouldn't let him."

Ron stared at her in amazement, "Well why didn't you just say so? Why make me have to drag it out of you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked towards the wall. He couldn't tell if she was angry, or amused, or both, "Ron, why does it matter to you whether or not Viktor Krum kissed me?"

Ron started to speak, but found that he'd lost the ability. Hermione had stopped crying, and looked as though she was wrestling with herself whether to tell him anything else. Finally she said, "Well, I don't really think that I am _obligated _to tell you this, but I am going to anyway. Do you want to know why Viktor was sending me all of those letters?"

Ron didn't know what to say. He really did want to know. Somewhere inside he had a feeling that the right thing to do would be to tell Hermione that he didn't need to know, but he couldn't find the words. Luckily, she started speaking again, very quietly, "When I accepted the invitation to Bulgaria, I told him that I was bringing my parents and that I was coming only as a friend. He agreed that was okay. When I got there, he tried to kiss me anyway. I got very upset and told him that if he kept doing things like that I would have to stop being his friend. Believe me, I felt terrible. He's a really nice guy and it's not his fault that apparently I'm not as smart as everyone thinks that I am and only fancy complete and utter idiots."

Hermione stopped here for a second and Ron thought he saw a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. For the first time in his life, he hoped that he was being called a complete and utter idiot. "The letter that I got the other day was from Viktor, apologizing, and asking if I would forgive him and be his friend. I wrote back that I did forgive him, and he wrote a thank you note back to me. And _that, _is _all _there is to know. Don't you feel stupid now that you've been acting like a total prat?"

When Hermione had finished, she drew a deep, ragged breath, and then started crying again. Angrily, she wiped the tears from her face. Ron was still unable to form words with his mouth, although he realized that he was grinning like an idiot. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. Swiftly, he reached out and hugged Hermione. Her head came up to his shoulder, and he squeezed both arms around her as she sobbed into his shirt. After a moment, she seemed to have stopped, and Ron, kissing the top of her head, whispered, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry… Hermione?" Her name came out of his throat hoarsely. She stepped back a bit to look up at him, and as she did so, he closed his eyes, leaned forward a little bit more, hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, and then, felt his lips touch hers in a sweet, and meaningful kiss.

When they finally had to stop for a breath, Ron loosened his hold around Hermione's waist (which he had been gripping very tightly), and they fell apart from each other. Hermione was staring at him with a look of bewilderment and – was that happiness? on her face. She looked straight at him, eyes wide, and then looked down at her feet, still alert, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. Instinctively, he reached for her again, pulling her towards him. Hermione's arms went up around his neck and they kissed again. 

They stood against the wall, kissing, at first timidly, and then, a little bit more adventurously, for nearly an hour. Hermione began absentmindedly playing with locks of coppery-red hair that rested on Ron's neck. Ron pulled her closer and caressed her arms as they kissed, enjoying the silky feel of her skin. Who would have known that girls were this soft and delicate feeling? Who would have thought that locks of hair would have nerve endings?

Finally they broke apart for a moment and Ron grinned sheepishly at her. "Guess I ought to be a stupid prat and make you cry more often." 

Hermione attempted to punch him playfully on the arm but he intercepted it mid-air and turned over her wrist to look at her watch. He opened his eyes wide, "it's nearly 11 o'clock! Time does fly when you're having fun I suppose. Maybe we should wait for our limousine."

Just then, they heard a loud honk as the Granger's car pulled into view. Blushing wildly, both of them climbed into the backseat and, grinning like idiots, held hands all the way home.

THE END

(or is it?)

A/N: I thought this would be a nice place to end, but now I am imagining how fun it is going to be to tell Harry and Ginny, so maybe there will be more sometime. I haven't started writing anything yet!

NOW, I hope you are scrolling down to review and keep reading, because I have a special announcement…

Fanfic has become such fun for me that I've decided to branch out. Arabella (another author here - go HqoW!) and I have decided to become the Headmistresses of our own HP website! We now invite you to visit http://www.sugarquill.com, a site for fanfiction writers and like-minded Potterites, where you are welcome to submit your stories for beta-reading, and also to post your opinions for discussion on our boards! 

Please be advised: The Sugar Quill DOES NOT OFFICIALLY OPEN UNTIL JANUARY THE 5th, 2001. It's still a bit rough! Arabella and I (and the other dear Professors at Sugar Quill) are currently on our merry holidays and will be quite unable to fulfill our headmistressly duties until that time (I will be sans a computer for FOUR whole days hiking in the wilds of Pennsylvania until December 29! ACK! I just checked the weather, it is going to be 7 degrees). In the meantime, please come and browse and submit stories to us and join in the fray of discussion - just don't expect responses to your stories until AFTER JANUARY THE 5th! Thanks again, and see you at The Sugar Quill! 

~Zsenya


End file.
